The Assignment
by Amusingly
Summary: In their seventh-year, Percy and Oliver are paired in an unusual assignment. Slash.
1.

**Series: THE ASSIGNMENT  
****Pairing: **PW/OW  
**Rating: **A careful PG for subject matter and language  
**Warning: **Surprise, it is slash  
**Summary: **In their seventh-year, Percy and Oliver are paired in an unusual assignment.  
**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and Co. are the property of JK Rowling and Warner Bros. No infringement on their copyright is intended.  
**Beta: **Originally, there was no beta for this part. However, Tanya or lj user"arcanefairy",betaedthis part andprovided some great suggestions – and I've even proudly stolen one of her sentences – Thank you ;)

_A/N: Very AU. No Voldemort. No Cho Chang. And Penelope is blonde. _

Chapter One

One afternoon in Mid-December, Hermione Granger sat in the front row of Professor Plum's class and carefully re-rolled her seven-foot long essay. Though term projects were normally due at the end of the holiday season, a few students submitted their assignments early in the hope of gaining their professor's good favor.

Just as she was tying the parchment roll tightly, a hand flashed in front of her, and all seven-feet of parchment came loose. Her assignment flew into the air and landed in a crumpled heap on the floor.

"That's my homework!"

Blaise Zabini looked down at the open parchment and back at Hermione with a smirk. "Is that what you're calling it these days, mudblood? I can't wait to see Plum's face when you present this sorry excuse of a wizard-muggle cooperation timeline."

Hermoine flushed as she held out her hand. Her gaze was strong as she demanded: "Give it here."

Blaise's foot hovered over the parchment. "And what might you do if-"

He stopped. The echo of heavy, confident steps and boyish chuckles could be heard from outside the classroom.

"…Real smooth, Wood. What did you expect him to do? He doesn't read minds. No Ravenclaw has ever shown promise in Trelawney's class."

"And you would know that Perce because…?"

"Yeah, Perce. Something Penelope's not reading, is it?"

More laughter.

"Ha-ha," came the dry reply. "Dave, the next time you're with Karen, I'll-"

The trio of seventh-year boys entered the classroom and briefly looked at the third years before exchanging knowing glances.

Percy Weasley was the first to react, straightening his robes in anticipation of what he liked to call a 'head boy situation.' He brushed his knuckles on his badge in a seemingly casual (and yet calculated) gesture. "Hello. Dropping off your end of term assignments?"

Slowly Blaise nodded, eying the two Quidditch players that stood behind Percy.

"I'll make sure Plum sees them." He looked pointedly at her before looking at the floor, the unrolled parchment catching his eye. "How are you today, Hermione?"

When she didn't answer, he picked up her assignment, used his fingers to quickly roll it in a swift motion and tied a neat bow. "Perhaps you'd both best be off to your last class, hmm?"

Shooting Percy an annoyed look and ignoring the piercing stares of the others, Blaise placed his own assignment on Plum's desk and walked briskly out of the room.

Oliver Wood cleared his throat. "Hi there, Hermione. Kind of early for this stuff, don't you think?" He pointed at the assignment.

Recovering from the ordeal, she smiled at him. A hint of a blush came over her cheeks as she said, "I'd rather not have Professor Plum wait to grade mine until the last minute. I expect you have your assignments as well?"

David Sharp of Ravenclaw laughed and muttered, "Yeah, right."

Percy sat on the edge of his desk and explained, "We haven't received the end-of-term assignment as of yet. But Plum has been stressing practice over theory this term."

Hermoine pursed her lips together. "That's right, I'd forgotten about that. I heard that Plum's approached the Board of Governors and Ministry of Magic for permission."

Dave shook his head. "Probably something stupid. It always is with Plum. You guys remember last year's open-choice projects? Someone wrote 'Quill Versus Ballpoint: The Best of Both Worlds.' "

Oliver laughed. "Now, who wrote that one? Do you remember, Dave?"

Percy cleared his throat and said quickly, "What about that one that Plum kept using as an example of an 'unsurpassed impassioned argument?' Oh, that's right! I remember now! 'Quidditch Versus Rugby: The Ancient Battle of Good Against Evil'."

Dave and Percy began to shake with laughter as Oliver stared at them. "How did you two know?"

Hermione cleared her throat, and the three younger men startled, cutting off their conversation and staring at her as though she only just appeared.

"Thanks, Percy. I'd better be off."

As she gathered her books together, Hermione caught another glimpse of the three seventh years over her shoulder. It wasn't often she was reminded of Percy's sense of humor. _Well_, she thought, _at least not around his brothers_.

Percy called after her. "Are you sure you're all right? Did you want to make out an official report?"

"Yeah. He's got a new quill!" Oliver added.

Dave snorted. Percy sighed heavily.

Shaking her head, Hermione gave a short wave and raced to make her last class.

"Mr. Wood! Haven't we wasted enough class time these last few months? Put that book away! Eyes forward! Everyone!" Professor Plum pointed to himself and set his lips in a tight, thin line. "I hope _I _won't be disturbing any more Quidditch-strategy sessions today."

Percy bit his bottom lip to keep from smiling, unable to stop from turning in his seat to look at Oliver in the back row. Sure enough, Dave was huddled beside him and both textbooks remained closed. Percy caught Oliver's eye and raised his eyebrows in a mock-scolding gesture.

"Today you'll receive your term-end assignments."

Plum walked to the chalkboard and with a dramatic flick of his wrist, detailed diagrams and instructions covered the boards in his trademark small handwriting.

Percy drew in a quick breath, his quill at-the-ready, and waited patiently for the professor to explain the strange illustrations. He squinted his eyes at the diagrams. _This can't be right. The instructions indicate that --_

"The Marriage Assignment." Plum's gleeful voice echoed off stonewalls. "For the next week, you'll all be paired into groups of two and assigned random tasks to be completed as a team."

The class whispered excitably. The professor was clearly enjoying himself, smacking his thin lips as he looked around to gauge the reaction.

"Class, this is a serious project. It will count towards 80-percent of your first-term grade and forty-percent of your overall grade. I suggest you pair-up wisely, as this week you'll be spending most of your time with your," the professor paused and held up both hands in an air-quote gesture, " 'spouse.' "

With a slight hiccup, Percy tried to stop staring at the chalkboard. _Perhaps this is all a prank_, he thought. Married for a week. Counting for eighty percent of the term grade._ And evaluated by… what?_

He shook his head hard, some reddish strands loosening from their gelled hold and sweeping in front of his eyes. _Don't be ridiculous_. He let out a slow breath. _After all, we're in class with the seventh-year Ravenclaws. Of course, Penny will-_

"Oh, and class?" Plum clapped his hands together. "I want in-house pairs only. Makes things a lot more convenient that way, don't you think?"

_What--_

Drawing a quick breath, Percy turned around.

Oliver's jaw dropped. _He's kidding. He must be kidding! Come on, Plum. Tell us this is just one of your silly whims that's you're not actually expecting us to follow through. For Merlin's sakes here, we're not thirteen! _

Oliver drummed his fingers on the edge of his desk. _Of all the stupid last minute assignments. _Just his luck. One week before the start of holidays, Plum gives out a project. _And_ assigns project partners with each house--

He shifted his gaze from Plum to Percy, matching his stunned expression. For a moment, he could have sworn he'd seen the redhead sway as though about to faint. His hands were white as they gripped his parchment and quill, threatening to tear both into two. He gave Percy a weak smile before breaking the gaze.

Beside him, Dave was bouncing in his seat. "_All right! _A whole week forced to be with Karen! This is going to be-"

"Horrible," Oliver interrupted in a dry voice, looking up at the ceiling.

"Yeah, just-- uh, horrible?" Dave paused, a wicked smile slowly appearing. "Whoa! It's just you and Perce, eh? Well," he now smacked his lips in a Plum-like gesture, "I was always pulling for you to hook up with--"

"Oh, just shut up! Like it's bad enough when it's just me, all right? Percy doesn't need to be dragged into my shit," Oliver wiped a hand over his forehead, glaring at Dave sideways. "Try to wipe that idiotic smile off your face."

Dave ignored Oliver's sharp tone, instead laughing and slapping him hard on the back. "It's not going to be that bad. Everyone knows that you're gay and that Percy is dating Penelope. They won't bother a Quidditch captain and the head boy."

Oliver rolled his eyes. "Quidditch doesn't stop them from bothering me already. And now, for Perce to be messed up with me, it's not going to help matters."

Dave put a reassuring hand on his shoulder, squeezing. "I'm serious. It's never been a problem for anyone, has it? Except a select few that choose to make it their problem."

Oliver stared at the back of Percy's head. "I know. That's what worries me. He shouldn't have to put up with this, even from only a 'select few'."

Dave patted Oliver's shoulder again. "You should be more worried about having Percy as your partner. If you get anything less than an 'A,' he'll be looking for an annulment. Good luck!" he added cheerfully. He stood, flashing Oliver another mischievous smile as he made his way to Karen's desk.

Oliver leaned back in his chair, balancing on the rear legs. Looking around, he noticed that most of the Ravenclaws seemed more than content with the assignment. Like Dave and Karen, many of the seventh-years were already dating each other and the few singles left were quickly paired-up. Oliver noticed Penelope Clearwater had already changed her seat to sit beside the handsome Ravenclaw seeker, Adam Jones.

Plum cleared his throat. "Ah, all settled now? Excellent! To ensure a good grade, I recommend that you follow – Er. Mr. Weasley, are you all right? Would you like a glass of water? No?"

Oliver looked at Percy again, whose gaze was darting back-and-forth, between Plum and Penelope. His face was red.

From his seat, Oliver heard Dave laugh and watched as Percy cast him a reproachful look.

"Everyone, listen up! This assignment will test your cooperation and teamwork skills. It will help you form the basis for what you can expect upon entering into a magical marriage bond. In any wizard relationship-- be it business, marriage, friendship, whatnot, how you encourage a relationship can have a positive or negative consequence on your magic. For instance, those with a poor business relationship will often find their use of simple spells requires more concentration when working in a business environment."

Plum began to pace. "Marriage, however, is a little different. When encouraged, the bonding of two individuals translates into the literal bond of your magic. The more you help and encourage your relationship, the better your relationship – and thus, magic – will be. And in dark times, the positive energy of a small bit of magic can make all the difference."

Plum stopped walking, and Oliver could see his eyes flashing with excitement. "This project will show how magic of a few can negatively affect the whole. You'll have to adjust to a slight change in your use of magic, but you'll also learn new safeguards. As well, you'll have a chance to see the affect that a bond has on charms. And the ability to take each other's strengths and produce a greater result. With this experience, I believe the Marriage Assignment will significantly benefit you in the future. Besides," Plum smiled brightly. "It's fun."

Most of the students cheered at this remark, looking forward to this particular assignment with unsurpassed enthusiasm.

_Why am I not surprised?_

Oliver rolled his neck, loosening tense muscles. Percy's bright hair caught his eye again, and he followed his gaze. _Still looking at Penelope and Adam. _

And, Oliver realized, Percy was probably noticed the same situation that he saw – that Penelope only had eyes for Adam, laughing loudly to him, throwing her blond curls high above her head, touching his shoulder lightly. Adam was leaning close to her, his arm around the back of her chair.

_Assignment hasn't even started yet. _Oliver looked at the surface of his desk, carefully examining pencil marks that bored students had etched into the wood. He wouldn't dare chance a look around the room, and risk seeing Percy react to Penelope and Adam together.

_Adam. I think his name is Adam._

Percy bit his bottom lip, trying to remember everything he'd ever heard about the young man Penelope was paired to. _I think… Yes, Dave introduced us last year. He's smart. That's a given, _he scolded himself. _But he's also athletic, on the Quidditch team. Maybe Oliver knows him well. _

Percy drew his eyes away from Penny to look around the classroom. Everyone was paired boy-girl, and he shuddered as he realized that he and Oliver would be deemed Hogwarts Poster Gay couple.

It wasn't that gay couples were uncommon in the wizard world, he acknowledged. But no house ever seemed to miss an opportunity to tease new couples, especially the one house that, Percy knew, Oliver spent so much of his time trying to avoid. _And those Slytherins aren't about to pass on the opportunity to take every available jibe at the head boy marrying-- er, pretend-marrying a Quidditch Captain._

The project itself wasn't a problem for Percy. If he could ignore his brothers' teasing, he could certainly put up with the entire student body for one week. _No, the major concern's Oliver_.

Percy sighed, looking at the back of the room. Oliver was staring at his desk, looking similarly miserable as whenever he lost a Quidditch match.

_Handle it, Ol, _Percy silently willed. _Handle it so that I don't have to._

"Settle down now." Plum clapped his hands loudly, and Percy turned back to the front of the room. "There are some specifics for this assignment. Take note, that the more time you spend together, the better the mark. And the more activities that you do together, the better chance you have for increasing your grade."

The class snickered. _How old are you all? _Percy rolled his eyes, twirling his quill in his hand.

Plum walked to his desk. "Before you leave, I'll be placing a set of charms on each couple. These charms will award points for actions that would otherwise go unseen. For instance, showing genuine concern for one another. Sacrificing your happiness for your partner's. Even chivalry may earn you points."

At this suggestion, some of the Ravenclaw boys stood up and pushed their partner's chairs in an exaggerated gesture. _I'll never again tease Dave that Ravenclaws don't have a sense of humor._

"Are we set?" The professor's face was flushed with anticipation. "Line up at the classroom door with your partner."

"Right," Percy muttered, setting about capping his inkbottle and gathering his books as the other students stormed the doorway in a poorly formed line.

He felt a tap on his shoulder, and jumped at the touch. "Merlin, where'd you come from?"

Oliver gave him a weary smile. "Sorry bout that. Looks like it's just you and me, eh?" His gaze shifted from Percy to the classroom door, where Dave held Karen's hand as Plum uttered the charms.

_A whole week of this? _

Percy cleared his throat lightly, bringing Oliver's attention back to him. "You know," he said slowly, gathering his books in his arms. "I would have preferred dinner first."

Oliver's weary smile spread into a genuine grin, and he slapped a hand on Percy's shoulder hard.

_Oh, that's going to bruise. _

"Get your books, Red," Oliver said. "I ain't carrying them for ya."

With a wry grin, Percy shook his head at Oliver's words, joining him at the back of the line. He leaned to the side, trying to get a glimpse at the charms.

As the pairs made their way though the classroom door, he noticed, Plum was sprinkling a white, glowing dust taken from a large bowl and uttering an incoherent phrase. _No help there. _

"Professor," Percy started as he and Oliver approached the doorway. "If you don't mind me asking, what charms are you using?"

"Charms approved by the Ministry, Mr. Weasley." Plum busied himself as he drew a pile of the white dust together in his bowl.

Percy exchanged a look with Oliver, shrugging his shoulders at Plum's non-answer. _I suppose he can't go around telling students marriage charms. Think of the havoc Fred and George could reek._

Plum suddenly looked up from his bowl, as though he'd only just noticed which students were in front of him. He blinked, and then gave them an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry, boys. You know, by the end of this week, most of the Ravenclaws will think that you got the better deal. And you already share a dorm and spend time together, so goblet half full, right?"

"Sure," Oliver muttered.

"Just let me know if you have any questions. Or problems," Plum added quietly.

_Wait, problems? _

"Wait, problems?" Percy blurted out.

As he spoke, white dust swirled around him. The room, the doorway, Plum – all turned white until Percy couldn't see anything at all except Oliver at his side. Somewhere a voice chanted.

Percy looked into Oliver's eyes. They looked small and-- scared, he decided, they looked scared. He nodded at him, as though trying to convey he felt the same. He found himself reaching his hand out towards Oliver, who was mimicking his movement, but just as their fingers brushed, Plum and the classroom appeared. The fog was lifted.

From the corner of his eye, Percy watched Oliver lean against the wall before realizing that he too was supported against a desk. The experience left both boys exhausted, dizzy and gasping for breath.

_What the--_

"Professor," Oliver gasped, his Scottish accent thick. "Was that normal?"

The color seemed to drain from Plum's face as he looked at both young men, taking his time answering. "Um. Yes. Yes, I'm sure that's normal. Well, boys. _Gentlemen! _Good luck!"

Before the boys could catch their breath, Plum was urging them out the classroom door. Percy opened his mouth but the sound of the door slamming shut drowned out his questions.

_What the hell was that?_

Quickly, Oliver turned his puzzled gaze to Percy, who looked disheveled and surprised. The other students were unaffected by the dust and the charm. Had something had gone wrong?

"Perce, did you feel--"

"Hey!"

Oliver groaned. "Hello, Dave." He turned slowly, seeing his friend lean against the opposing stonewall, a smirk on his face.

"Well, if it isn't Hogwarts' _cutest couple_."

Percy swallowed and, seeming to recover from the charm (_or whatever the Hell that was in there!_), rolled his eyes to Oliver. "Not even a full minute afterwards and we're assaulted."

Oliver nodded at Percy, a pang of annoyance piercing through him. He fought through it. "At least he called us 'cute'."

Dave hummed for a moment. "No, no. Not _cutest couple_, I take that back. More like _powerhouse_. A Quidditch Keeper falling in love with the head boy. Like a fairy tale. Put that fist down, Ol."

Oliver put down his fist, knowing that idol threats had been lost on Dave for years.

Standing in between the tall young men, the shorter Dave placed an arm around each of their shoulders and led them down the hall.

Oliver sighed, resigned to a week of Dave's perpetual teasing.

He could hear Percy's teeth grind together. "What are you still doing here, Dave?"

"Perce, you wound me. I would never miss my two best friends getting married. It's the happiness day of- ok, ok, guys," Dave hastened his step to catch up with the young men, managing to place his arms around their shoulders once more. "Loosen up, you two. You lucked out. I have to spend this week with my girlfriend. Oh man, that's going to be tough."

Oliver shrugged his arm away again. Never known for tact, this Ravenclaw wasn't making the situation any easier. "Shove off. It's not like we have a choice in the matter."

He looked at Percy, immediately regretting his words. _I didn't mean for it to come out like that!_

But Percy said quickly, confidently, "And besides, it's only a project. We hang out all the time. I don't think we've ever had an easier assignment."

"That's right," Oliver encouraged, nodding. "Who's to say that the lower years will even hear about it before it's over? They're all too busy with their own term-end assignments."

Dave laughed, shaking his head. "You guys have no idea what's in store for you."

Percy shifted his books to his side. The pile was quite large, and it occurred to Oliver that he was probably having difficulty holding onto such a heavy load all day. _Should have offered to take some of them. _But Percy smoothed out his robe with his free hand, showing no sign of strain.

When he lifted his head, Oliver could have sworn that he winked at him.

Percy said calmly, "You know, Dave, you're welcome to hang out with us this week whenever you like. But unless you'd like to be known as the guy who wanted to spend more time with Hogwarts 'powerhouse couple', then I suggest you shove off."

Dave huffed. Defeated, he muttered, "Well, _shit_," and started to walk down the corridor.

But he stopped after only a few feet, turning around on his heel. He grinned devilishly at his friends again, rolling up his robe sleeve and pointing to a muggle watch on his wrist. "Class ran late. Time for dinner, gentlemen! As per usual, you'll be sitting with the Gryffindor Quidditch team, eh?" He chuckled crudely. "For once, I'd love to be sitting at your table."

Clucking his tongue, the smarmy Ravenclaw walked down the corridor and turned into the Great Hall.

_- -To Be Continued_


	2. 

Special thanks to Nichol for the beta (she writes here under GeorgeandFredWeasley). And many thanks to everyone who read and reviewed. I tried to respond to everyone that had an e-mail address. The reviews were all nice to receive, and very much appreciated!

Disclaimer: JK Rowling and Warner Bros. own Harry Potter. No copyright infringement is intended.

Chapter 2: Secrets & Responsibilities (1)

Only when Dave disappeared into the Great Hall was Percy aware of the students that scrambled about. Cliques broke to walk around him and Oliver, and sounds of excitable chatter and scuffled feet echoed against the cobblestones. Some of the younger years pushed past them, eager for a good seat, and the sudden motion was like a slingshot, sending Percy back into the real world. The feeling of numbness and confusion from Plum's class vanished, and he was left in the midst of chaos and fatigue.

Turning around to look at Oliver, he was met with a hard stare.

"Perce, we don't have to-"

The redhead dismissed his words with a wave of the hand and a nervous laugh. "That's alright, Ol. Dave just isn't going to let up this week." He started to walk slowly towards the Great Hall, the corridor quiet now as only a few students hurried by.

Oliver followed. "Dave's bark is always worse than his bite, huh? If things get rough, I'm certain a Quidditch game could persuade him to lay off."

"Or a raid of Finch's office. There's a whole drawer of Fred and George's _recreational_ pursuits."

"Ah, a little testing on Dave, you mean?"

"Precisely."

Though their banter was light, Percy felt blood rush up to his neck when they entered the Great Hall, side-by-side. He swallowed hard, trying to quell the tennis ball that seemed to have apparated into his esophagus, and set his lips together to show a brave face. Like Oliver. Scrutinized, teased, and bullied everyday; and yet, here was Oliver, taking this news in stride.

That is, until he saw Oliver's fisted hands out of the corner of his eye.

_Seeing_ his roommate's fists so uncharacteristically clenched sent heat through Percy's body. Why should a seventh-year student, a Quidditch player – captain! – a guy like Oliver, be forced into this situation? All because – what? – because they were Gryffindors and the only seventh-years in their house. Peeved, Percy stood taller. He was the head boy, walking to supper with his best friend. He's tutored, guided, and (on many occasions) apprehended almost every student that was seated around him. It was silly, really, to think otherwise.

And there was no reason to be embarrassed right now, he reasoned, taking his place at the table. Only the Ravenclaws knew about the assignment and more than likely, the novelty of their new 'spouse' had them looking elsewhere than at the Gryffindors. Well, maybe Dave, he mused. Now relaxed and seated, he resisted the urge to look over at his table, knowing the Ravenclaw was probably at staring both him and Oliver.

"Ol, did you hear about Puddlemere's newest…"

"I haven't seen the playbook for Wednesday's match, and…"

"Ron stepped on my broom handle last night…"

Percy nodded to his housemates as he dug into the meal set before him, only half-listening to the questions thrown at Oliver. As usual, Fred and George sat directly across from him, with Ron, Harry and Hermione on either side. Angelina and Katie sat to the other side of Oliver, while Ginny, Neville and Colin sat beside Percy. Everyone was talking together, and Percy felt a sigh of relief run through him. No one knew.

"Dave told us that Plum finally gave out the assignments."

Percy looked up and met Hermione's curious eyes, dropping his fork loudly to his plate.

"Really?" He chocked slightly, clearing his throat to cover the quiver in his voice. "Dave-Dave told you about the assignment?"

"Yes, Plum did hand out the assignment this afternoon," Oliver said, hurriedly, cutting the twins off. As he nudged Percy's side, the redhead heard Oliver mutter something in Gaelic (though he could have sworn he heard the words "Quidditch" and "arse" thrown in).

"Um, yes. Due next Monday, would you believe it? Though I suppose most of you have assignments finished on that date, too. Right? That's the cut off, huh?" Percy hoped his seemingly casual tone would direct others away from Plum's assignment and onto their own.

Harry caught the bait. "Professor Sprout gave the third-years an assignment to transform Hogwarts' current plants into new varieties. But someone messed up."

Hermione shot Neville a pointed look and the timid third-year immediately lowered his eyes to his plate.

"They keep transforming students into plants when they lean in too far. We all got the lecture today," Harry continued. He puffed out his chest and sat up rigidly, capturing the attention of the entire table. Using a voice and quiet tone that resembled the headmaster, he said, "Students, watch what you sniff this week. You just may end up on one of Sprout's greenhouse shelves!"

As their house laughed, Percy felt Oliver's breath on his ear. "They're going to find out-"

A loud throat cleared from the front of the hall. The students stopped their conversations and watched Headmaster Dumbledore stand, casting his watchful eye over the house tables.

"Good evening, students. I only have a few announcements; I shan't keep you from your meal too long. First, I must inform you once again that Hogwarts' plants continue to transform students into – well, I ask that you be careful what you sniff this week, as you may find yourself on one of Professor Sprout's greenhouse shelves." Dumbledore's voice gave way to humorous tones as he glanced over his half-moon glasses, and Percy could have sworn he seen him wink at Harry.

He looked at the other students sitting around the table. They were discretely nibbling on their meals, casting inattentive eyes towards the front of the hall. And as he noticed them whispering and watching each other, he felt the anxiety in his chest calm. Perhaps-

"And finally," the headmaster clasped his hands together in front of him, "I'm pleased to inform you that the seventh-year Ravenclaws and Gryffindors have received a particularly interesting term project."

"Shit," Percy felt Oliver's breath before he heard him whisper. Without looking at his friend, he nodded, his hands fiddling nervously with a napkin. Dumbledore had turned to face Plum, seated at the corner of the head table, and both were exchanging knowing glances. Between them, Snape looked his usual sour self, as he appeared to ignore Flitwick's attempts to steer him into conversation. Percy's eyes fell on Professor McGonagall who was staring directly at him, a worried expression on her face. He looked back at her, raising his eyebrows as though to ask 'what's wrong?' but her gaze shifted when Dumbledore spoke.

"For the first time, a Hogwarts' professor has been granted permission to use binding charms on under-age wizards. In Professor Plum's Global Wizard Interaction and Etiquette Education Class, students have been paired into groups of two and received several charms that will help evaluate their interactions for the next week. Each student is to be considered," the headmaster paused, as though (Percy felt) for dramatic effect, "_married_ to his or her partner until Monday."

At this admission, the students dissolved into quick, uncertain smiles, cheeky grins and laughter. The younger years at the Ravenclaw table were chortling loudly, already having heard the news at the start of dinner. At the Gryffindor table, Percy felt eyes set in his direction.

Fred and George were the first to realize they hadn't heard incorrectly.

A mischievous smile appeared on Fred's face. "Well, can you believe that, dear brother!" he exclaimed to George. "We get Percy all married off and didn't even have to get him a gift."

George leaned close to Fred, and spoke in a mock whisper, "It's only right, Fred. I'm sure opening their gifts would have distracted him and Penny from their wedding night. Anything special planned, Perce?"

Percy felt his dinner begin to flip-flop in his stomach as he tried to form words with his mouth. This was worse than he expected. He would have to explain to them – _explain _to them – that he wasn't paired with Penny.

But the twins had already turned to Oliver. "So, Ol, what lucky guy did you get?" Fred licked his lips in anticipation of his latest tease.

Lee Jordan spoke up from down the table. "Does he cook for you? Clean house?"

"I'm betting him and Perce made it a double wedding. Right, guys?" George raised his eyebrows. "No sense letting a little thing like marriage take precious time away from the Quidditch captain and head boy!"

Oliver sighed, shaking his head at the twins with a small smile. Percy couldn't help but admire how he appeared to handle the twins' comments as though they rolled off his back. Even his calm demeanor, keeping a casual eye on his meal and his housemates, seemed to indicate their questioning didn't bother him. But Percy spent far too many nights seeing Oliver stare out their bedroom window after practice to know better.

He grimaced, realizing these comments were the easy ones, when they were done in jest and not followed by a fist.

"Perhaps he ended up with a lady friend?" Ginny teased loudly.

George turned to Fred. "We've taught her well."

"You know, we could give our dear Quidditch captain some pointers."

Angelina spoke up. "I do have a pop-up book, Ol, and Katie has some extra time on her hands to-" Katie leaned over to swipe her friend playfully, though (to Percy) she didn't seem too uncomfortable with the suggestion.

As the Gryffindors laughed, Oliver leaned to his side and whispered, "I don't care if they are your brothers. They're going to get what's coming to them at practice."

Percy managed a small grin before turning his attention back to the table. It was only a matter of time before-

"Who'd you get, Ol?" Harry leaned across the table.

"Don't leave us in suspense, mate!"

The room suddenly quieted as Dumbledore clasped his hands together.

"I understand the novelty and excitement of this assignment, and we encourage you to talk openly. However, I must ask that you understand the significance of a marriage bond. This is the most sacred of wizard ceremonies, and wizards that fail to interact or cooperate in this partnership may suffer harsh consequences. Consider the fourteen-month rainstorm of 1961 – I'm sure many of your parents informed you about-" heads bobbed around the room. "Yes, good. That is only one instance of many in which a particularly disastrous marriage of two ordinary individuals can affect the whole. And above all we teach at Hogwarts, the basic principles of good magic should include a respect of your power and it's affects on your fellow wizards."

The headmaster looked at Plum again, and the small man stood up and cleared his throat. He snapped his fingers and a long piece of parchment appeared in his hands.

"I'd like to introduce the happy couples. You'll be seeing a lot of them together this week. Please rise and remain standing when I say your name. From Ravenclaw, Penelope Clearwater and Adam Jones."

The Gryffindors immediately cast puzzled looks at Percy and he shrugged his shoulders at them, trying to appear indifferent at this announcement. Inside, he couldn't stop shaking, and some part of his brain that still functioned observed how difficult it was to look calm when one's cheeks were glowing scarlet.

"And from Gryffindor, Percy Weasley and Oliver Wood."

Eyes suddenly glazed, Fred and George looked like Christmas had come early. Percy was hit with the sudden realization that every bit of authority and respect he tried so hard to earn these past seven years was washed away before his eyes. Raising a cool hand to a red cheek, he looked down at his plate, too ashamed now to even look at his roommate.

The entire hall was now filled with laughter. Percy felt a tap on his shoulder and, looking up at Oliver, slowly stood beside him. Seeing the Scots' face flush, he felt a moment's relief that he wasn't the only one affected by the attention. Then again, Percy thought as he tried to stop staring at the tears that threatened the corners of his brothers' eyes, he had gotten the better of the deal. It was one thing to be paired with his best friend on a project – quite another to be bonded with handsome, popular _Oliver_, in a humiliating 'geek meets Quidditch Jock Extraordinaire' setup.

Percy eyes drifted over the room. Both Dave and Karen, standing among the many bonded Ravenclaws, gestured 'thumbs up' at him. The younger girls turned red with embarrassment, and the first and second-year boys seemed to concentrate on their food with small smiles. The older students were the main source of the hooting and applause, with cackles and the occasional derogatory remark coming from the Slytherin table. Chancing a glance at the professors, Percy saw Professor McGonagall giving him a small smile. But it was Plum's eyes that caught his attention. The professor was applauding all the couples, yet he stared at Percy and Oliver. He was – _beaming_ at them? Yes, the more the redhead stared back, he was certain Plum was pleased with himself.

Then, to his surprise and (he thought) perhaps Oliver's, the absurdity of the afternoon struck Percy and he began to laugh with the rest of them.

Watching Percy gasp for air in between laughs, Oliver easily let out his earlier reservations about the assignment and laughed heartily with him. His roommate's earlier hesitation in the corridor had arisen many questions, and he spent most of the meal on autopilot, answering questions with easy answers as he tried to figure out how to deal with this mess. And now that everyone found out, it felt good to laugh. As Dumbledore clapped his hands again and gestured for the students to resume their meals, the two boys sat down, relaxed and prepared for the onslaught of teases that awaited them.

"Now, now, Oliver," Ron managed to wheeze in between sobs of laughter, "We have to make sure that your intentions are pure."

"Absolutely," George chimed in, one arm around Fred in support, "I mean, you two never told us you were dating!"

"Whatever will Mom and Dad say?" Fred managed to sputter, before collapsing in laughter again with George and knocking a few bowls over in the process.

"Couldn't have done any better, Perce," Ginny said generously, and Oliver saw Percy shoot her a small smile before she added, "Of course, it's not like you were spoiled for choice now, was it?"

As George leaned over and patted her arm as though in approval, Percy said in an overly loud whisper to Oliver, "I completely agree. Their game has been way off lately. If you're taking suggestions, I recommend push-ups."

"Lots," Oliver muttered, trying to wipe the smile off his face and replace it with a mock glare. He waited until the laughter subsided before saying, "You guys just wait until it's your turn. We have no idea what's going on with this assignment.

"We don't even know how they're grading us."

"What were you told to do?" Trust Hermione to get right to the details, Oliver thought, though he did see that her cheeks were still rosy from laughing.

"We were told that the charms cast would evaluate our performance on several aspects, such as cooperation and teamwork. But points can be earned outside of the classroom."

"'Evaluate your performance'?" Harry squeaked, sending the table chuckling once more.

Never one to miss an opportunity, Fred leaned over the table. "For instance?"

"Well," Percy started, staring at his brother with his best (as Oliver had come to call it) 'I'm going to kill you when we're not in public' facial expression, "We have to spend a lot of time together this week. Um, you know, as part of the bond."

"Meaning much of our free time has to be spent together," Oliver added, and a sinking feeling came into his stomach when he realized how his words sounded.

Harry spoke up and (thankfully, Oliver thought) his love of Quidditch prevailed over teasing, "All your spare time? But Ol, what about the game Wednesday? We have to practice, go over game plays and-"

Members of the Quidditch team began to murmur amongst themselves. Well, Oliver thought wryly as he held up a hand to stop them, at least they've let up for now. He opened his mouth to speak, but instead heard Percy's voice: "Don't worry about it. If you don't mind a spectator while you practice, I'll just bring my books and study in the stands instead of the library." He gave Oliver a cautious look. "If that's all right."

To Oliver, his roommate looked just as surprised as he felt when he heard the suggestion. Not that he and Percy hadn't compromised before. But Quidditch was his domain, just as the head boy badge that glittered on his roommate's robe was his, and they always kept that part of their lives separate from each other.

Oliver cleared his throat, "That'd be great, Perce, but what about your own responsibilities?"

Percy paused, then abruptly turned and said, "Hermione?"

She looked up at him.

"If Professor McGonagall approves, would you mind if I delegate some of my duties to you for the next few days?"

She flushed. "Oh, yes. Certainly!"

Oliver saw Ron and Harry roll their eyes.

Percy nodded at her. "We'll talk about it later?" She nodded, a small smile on her face as she continued to concentrate on her meal.

Percy turned to Oliver. "So far, we're managing to-"

Hands clapped behind them. "Ah! I see one of my couples is already cooperating!"

Oliver and Percy jumped at the sound of Professor Plum's voice, and turned to find him looming over them.

The Gryffindor table broke into laughter again. Out of the corner of his eye, Oliver saw Dumbledore whispering to McGonagall, both staring at the boys with what he could only describe as 'interest.' He heard himself sigh. He had too much to deal with, too much to think about than to be guessing other peoples' opinions. It was going to be a long week.

"Ol, it's six-thirty!"

He jerked up, watching Percy bundle books under his arm and jump to his feet. Some older students left soon after announcements, and the head boy and Gryffindor captain were no exception. With a nod to the rest of the Gryffindors, now pointing to the Ravenclaw table and gossiping about their partners, the two boys stood and started to make their way to the main door. Yesterday's news, Oliver hoped.

"See you later, fellows," Fred called after them, a mischievous gleam in his eyes.

Before the rest could chime in, Percy whirled around, rolled his eyes in an exasperated look to Oliver, and began to walk out of the hall. But the Gryffindors weren't the only students that noticed them leave.

Almost to the door, a voice from the Slytherin table called out, "Wood! Weasley! This will be the one week you won't have to pretend about your relationship."

"Like a dream come true, ain't it, Wood?"

"So, tell us really, what goes on in that dorm room of yours? That's an awful lot of space for two students."

"Not like they get lonely!"

Biting down hard on his bottom lip, Oliver couldn't hold his temper any longer. He knew those voices. They were the same that taunted him whenever Gryffindor played Slytherin, and he would be damned before he'd let that team get away with this outside of the Quidditch pitch. Ignoring the taste of blood, he started to walk over to the Slytherin table only to be stopped by a slight pull on his robe. He turned to see Percy, staring firm at the table, holding his robe and (Oliver supposed) trying to hold his temper.

Part of his mind knew that his roommate should be taking points away right now. He should be dictating regulations and some vague reference to respect from _Hogwarts: A History_. Now looking at him, Oliver saw the blue eyes soften, and he realized (perhaps, as Percy did) that this is how the rest of the week might be.

10. 9. 8. 7. Oliver tried to keep his temper in check. He glanced around the room, watching the faculty talk amongst themselves. 6. 5. 4. It looked like Harry was doing another Dumbledore impression at the Gryffindor table. Fred and George were watching the seventh-years, eyebrows raised.   
  
3. 2. 1. His eyes moved to the Ravenclaw table, meeting Dave's worried gaze. Karen, a plain-looking girl with an anything-but-plain personality, was holding his hand. Dave's eyes widened, his back straight, as though asking if he should join them, but Oliver quickly shook his head. So far, he managed to keep Dave away from this. It was just too bad he couldn't do that for Percy.

His gaze fell back on his roommate, who still stared at him with blue eyes he couldn't read. He knew now there was no use in staying – after all, he did run out of numbers. Nodding to Percy, they headed towards the corridor.

**  
  
Next Chapter: ** The boys chat, go to practice and turn in for the night.


	3. 

Special thanks to Nichol for the beta (she's a very lovely person who writes here under GeorgeandFredWeasley, so please check her stuff out :). And many thanks to everyone who read and reviewed Chapter 2. Again, I tried to respond to everyone that had an e-mail address. A review is always unexpected and they were all quite nice, so thank you very much!

Disclaimer: JK Rowling and Warner Bros. own Harry Potter. No copyright infringement is intended.   
  
--

Chapter 3: Of Friendship (1)

Students usually remained in the Great Hall long past supper to participate in the daily gossip roundtable, first dishing amongst their housemates and later moving freely about the tables. Since the beginning of his first year as prefect, Percy was very much relieved to discover the majority of students stayed away from the dorms. For a brief time, he could escape the crowd and questions, concentrating on his personal responsibilities rather than others.

Hearing Oliver's heavy footsteps close behind, Percy gathered the front of his robe in fists and quickened his step, his breath deepening. No matter the amount of time he spent patrolling (and truth be told, getting lost) in these halls, he still minded the silence and haunted atmosphere of the school. His eyes flickered along the walls, trying to detect any sign of trouble. As usual, small candles lined the corridor walls, casting eerie shadows along the way to Gryffindor Tower. All classroom doors were closed and bolted, and a deep chill had set in through the darkened hallways.

"Damn it! Slow down, Perce. They're not following us," Oliver said, pausing at the top of the staircase.

Leaning against a railing, Percy gasped for breath, coughing hard. He felt a large hand rest on his back in a comforting gesture. Steadying his hands on his knees, he glanced up. "The walk a little-" _wheeze _"-too hard for the Quidditch player here?"

Oliver gestured from himself to the redhead, as though proving their athletic differences, and said (whilst breathing regularly, Percy noticed), "Just worried about you, Perce. The rate you're going, the team will have to carry you practice. And after what you did back there-"

Brushing his hair out of his eyes, Percy steadied himself against the brute Scot. "A confrontation in front of the faculty wouldn't have been your best idea, Ol."

Brown eyes flash with annoyance, and Percy found himself readjusting his glasses to avoid his stare.

"_My_ best idea? What about you? You're the head boy." As if to emphasize this, Oliver pointed a finger at the badge. "Weren't you going to do something about it?"

"Oh, I'm sure I'd do my best right before I'm knocked out."

"That's because I'd be the one to knock-"

"Boys, boys!"

Oliver and Percy looked blankly at one another as arms wrapped around their shoulders from behind, bringing them together in a sort of group hug. "Playing hero again, huh, Perce?"

Percy rolled his eyes and shook his shoulders, dropping Dave's arm. He noticed Oliver did the same, crossing his own, and standing side-by-side with him. "What are you doing here, Dave?"

The blond-haired boy raised his palms open in a gesture of peace. "Hanging out with my best friends, that's what. Looks like things got a little tense back there. Thought I'd catch up and see how you two were doing."

"And we appreciate that," Oliver said dryly.

"Should. Especially since I had to run to catch up to you two. What is that, Perce, some sort of head-boy step? Seriously, Ol, you two keep this up and Ravenclaw will have no problem beating you guys at the next game."

Oliver unfolded his arms and chuckled, "Corridors aren't the problems. But try keeping up with him on stairs. It's like ballet."

Percy cleared his throat and started to walk away, certainly not wanting to get into _that_ conversation again. Straightening his back, he called behind him, "Keep up! We don't have much time before your practice. And I think we may have bigger problems on our hands than Slytherins."

Out of the corner of his eye, Percy watched Dave fall into step with him. "Like what?"

"The charm. At least, I think that's it. Didn't you notice the professors staring at us?"

"No more than anyone else. Any-"

Oliver cut in between them, turning his head sideways to address Percy. "A bit, yeah. McGonagall was staring during dinner but she didn't look overly concerned. Interested, maybe. And curious."

Percy nodded slowly, not sure how to interpret Oliver's information. She was the heart of academy, and any new use of magic would interest her. But if an advanced witch such as herself was 'curious' about their assignment- "I think- I think we may need to talk to Flitwick tomorrow. Dave and I are in his Advanced Charms class-"

"I'm shocked," Oliver muttered, though his tone was not without humor.

"And whatever that charm produced - vortex, fog, I don't know – it didn't seem part of a normal bonding ritual. We can get some books from the library tomorrow. I'm there for tutoring anyways."

Percy heard, rather than saw, Dave slapped Oliver on the back. "That means you'll be there, too, Ol."

Pausing in front of the Fat Lady portrait, Percy turned in time to see his friends exchange smiles and felt the corners of his mouth turn up. He developed an early appreciation for Dave, the self-described 'third-wheel,' as he found humor in any situation, from tests to Quidditch games to troubles with girls –and guys. Nothing was ever as hard as it seemed when the three of them were together. Except, of course, when Gryffindor was playing against Ravenclaw.

A throat cleared and a small voice called out, "When were you going to notice I wasn't around, Dave?"

The trio turned to see Karen hurrying down the hall, struggling to hold a stack of thick books. Her short, brown hair bounced as she walked, the glare from the candlelight shining off her glasses.

Dropping the books into Dave's waiting hands, she placed her own on her hips and looked pointedly at Percy and Oliver. "You left your books back there. Honestly! You three should have been bonded together. I certainly wouldn't mind." She turned to Percy and Oliver. "And what are you guys going to do about what happened back there?"

Trust Karen, Percy thought wryly, and he could feel Oliver's eyes watching him. He eyed Karen wearily. "Nothing. What else should we expect from this assignment? If that's the worse they can throw-"

"Worse? Perce, what's it going to take-"

"Hey!" Oliver cut Dave off, glaring at him. "Let's just leave this one go, alright?"

Karen looked pointedly at Dave, pushing him aside in a playful (though, Percy thought, perhaps bruising) gesture. "And you're putting up with this?"

"'Course Not," he said, sounding as though he were trying to convince himself. He straightened his back and folded his arms, preparing (Percy thought) to defend himself against his friends.

But as he met their gaze, he let a smile drift to his face.

Karen groaned, lifting her hands to her waist, palms up. Her expression was cross but her eyes showed her amusement. "Honestly! Percy, Oliver. If anything happens, we want to know about it. You'll tell us, right? _Right?"_

"Sure, Karen. Don't worry," Oliver squeezed her shoulder and, seeing Karen's mock scowl, quickly retracted his hand.

"We'll see you two later in the Prefect's Lounge, right?"

Percy shook his head. "No, Oliver's got practice. But I'm putting Hermione in charge for tonight. You guys will keep an eye on her, right?"

Dave nodded. 'Sure thing. I'll also keep an eye on Penelope for you."

Percy jolted, staring at Dave in surprise. He'd completely forgotten about meeting Penelope at the Prefect's lounge. And Adam, he reasoned. Yes, he'd probably be there as well. Realizing that Dave had come to the same conclusion, he nodded curtly, though his fingers resumed fidgeting with the front of his robe.

He felt a firm hand lay on his shoulder and heard Oliver say in his familiar way, "'appreciated. Guess we'll see you guys tomorrow then."

Reshuffling the books in his arms, Dave managed a slight wave before placing an awkward arm around Karen and walking down the corridor. Watching the couple walk together, Percy sighed and turned to see Oliver watching him intently, his eyes sympathetic and understand. Nodding towards the portrait, the redhead couldn't help wondering how much understanding he would need from his friends before this assignment ended.

By the time the seventh-years reached their dorm floor, both set straight for their beds and collapsed wordlessly from exhaustion. Percy and Oliver were the only seventh-years, enjoying a large room that allowed a significant amount of privacy. A small fireplace (pathetic really, Oliver mused to himself as his eyes drifted over the room) was set against the back wall, and a couple of old torn couches were placed in a semi-circle around the hearth, fashioning the room like a 'junior-sized' common room of sorts.

Seventh-years were given more responsibility, the most obvious being the strict tidying of their room in accordance to house elf standards. The fire had to be stoked by students, and the threat of suspension for use other than fire was repeated often. With no girls, this year was set to be the first that no seventh-year Gryffindor didn't try to floo into the girls' dormitory. Actually, Oliver thought as he rested his hands comfortably together on his chest, there were few high jinks with Percy to mark their time here. He sighed. Sometimes the benefits of having just one roommate, even one that was your best friend, had come with too high a cost.

Oliver looked over and saw Percy now sitting at his desk, his chair only half-turned as he wrote at a comfortable slant. His feet were crossed and bent under the seat, his head hanging down close to the parchment.

If Oliver had learned one thing during their time together, it was that conversation was never an option when Percy was in thought. With this in mind, he grabbed the broom cleaning kit from under his bed, sat upright and began setting out the supplies to polish his gear.

He felt the muscles in his back relax as he weaved a comb through the bristles, releasing a small cloud of dust that quickly dissipated. Uncapping his most expensive pre-polish, he began to scrub the handle, concentrating on making each stroke even and heavy. The room was silent, as it usually was when they were working on their separate interests, and the Scot found himself doing what he usually did in times such as this – he stared at the back of Percy's head.

He really is more comfortable than most people think he is, Oliver reflected as he grabbed a fresh cloth from the kit. Percy allowed the Quidditch team to meet in this room, as he was often in the library and the chances of an espionage-related charm getting past the Fat Lady and up the tower were nil. For his part, Oliver also gave Percy some quiet time in the room. Especially on occasions when he would find Percy and Penelope studying on his bed and – as subtle as the outcome of a Weasley twin prank – he would blurt out that he was spending the night elsewhere (usually the couch in the common room). Though he thought he came off obvious, he never felt too comfortable seeing, much less encouraging, heterosexual copulation habits. Especially in his room.

Pushing his chair out noisily, Oliver watched as Percy walked their window and waved his wand quickly, muttering a foreign charm. Three owls appeared, and he tied several pieces of rolled parchment to their legs, sending them off with a pat on each of their heads. Hermes cooed in the corner, rattling the cage, but Percy ignored him, resumed his seat, and continued to write feverishly.

Suddenly he turned as though to say something, when he noticed Oliver looking at him and stopped.

Caught. Oliver gave a smile, holding up his broomstick. "All done. Now I'm bored."

Percy matched his smile, fiddling with his quill. "Like your broom _really _needed to be polished. Probably be best if I forget that you just did that this morning. Er… I'm almost finished here as well, just writing a quick note to home."

Oliver began to recap his polish bottles. "Things all settled for Hermione?"

Percy focused remained on the parchment and the quill that continued to write. "Hope so. I've written down some duties for her."

"She's young."

Percy looked over his shoulder and nodded, looking deep in thought. After a moment, he said, "Perhaps a little too young for this, but I've already owled the other prefects and delegated some duties to them. She'll only be in charge of Gryffindor prefect duties. It _is_ a bit extensive. But it'll look great on her transcript."

Oliver stood and walked over to his desk, peering over Percy's shoulder at the list. He estimated its length at about one and a half-feet. "You do this every night? On top of everything else?" He felt suddenly very foolish, as though he only just realized that Percy – _head boy_ Percy, not _best friend_ Percy– was reorganizing his schedule to suit his needs. All over a team practice. Of course, it was never just _another _term practice. Oliver looked at his roommate, who had twisted in his seat and tilted his head upwards to watch him.

He met the gaze, watching not only his eyes but also his expression and facial features. Percy breathed out heavily, his breath warm, and Oliver detected the scent of apples that seemed to pull him in closer. As though he were watching a movie, he heard himself say, in a voice lower than a common whisper, "Not even your brothers have this many freckles, Perce."

Realizing what he said, Oliver jerked up, dizzy, his heart soaring to his throat. He hadn't meant to say that! He hadn't meant to say anything at all. And to sound as though… He opened his mouth to say something, anything, as an excuse.

But it was Percy that spoke softly, not having moved away but instead smiled kindly at him. "Ol, I know Quidditch is important to you. I'm not sure if I can manage this often, but perhaps we can work out a better schedule for tomorrow?" He raised his eyebrows, questioningly. A part of Oliver's mind, somewhere just about the surface of conscious thought, registered that there was a slight drop in Percy's normally flawless accent, now blending words together easily instead of pointedly. A part of him also noticed Percy's head still tilting upwards, looking at him almost upside-down, something like Cedric Diggory's did at last year's holiday Quidditch party. Right before-

The intense release at realizing Percy hadn't heard him came rushing through Oliver's body and, steadying himself on the back of his chair, he gave a tight smile. Blue eyes continued to stare intently at him, watching as he tried to back away slowly, casual-like. And when a knock suddenly rapped at the door, Oliver took his chance and walked hurriedly towards a chair, yelling in relief, "It's open!"

The door burst open loudly, revealing all the current Weasley residents with Harry and Hermione in tow. They were in the midst of a conversation and laughing as they made their way to the couches around the fireplace.

Ginny sat next to Oliver and, smiling at her, he asked, "For what do we owe the honor of this visit?"

The twins sat across from him and exchanged mischievous grins.

"Well, if it isn't-"

"The happy couple! We would have brought you a housewarming gift-"

"But seeing as we weren't invited to the wedding-"

"You can go bugger-!"

"George!" Percy bellowed from his chair, catching Oliver's gaze and rolling his eyes.

Ron sat to the other side of him. "So, are you two really married for the week? Seriously?" he asked, eying Oliver suspiciously.

"Er… Well…"

"Not exactly. No, Ron. Not in any professional binding ceremony," Percy spoke up from the desk. "Er… I assume. But we do have charms placed on us for special evaluation purposes."

"Yes, yes, we already know that," Ron nodded, his gaze resting on the floor between the boys, seemingly in deep thought. "But what we all want to know is – do you get extra points for kisses? Sharing the same bed? Holding hands under the dinner-?"

Not a whole week of this, Oliver mused, before tackling him to the couch in a playful gesture. Fred and George, though doubled over in laughter, tried to pry him off their brother. Oliver gave his shoulders a shake, getting out of the Wesley's' grasp and said, "Really, guys. No matter how much you beg, we won't be doing any of that to distract everyone from whatever disaster your pranks have caused!"

Just as he thought the twins were getting ready for a smart reply, Harry spoke up. "Hey, Ol? We actually came here to tell you that all the Slytherin teammates got detention earlier today and-"

"Wait!" Percy held up his hand to stop him from continuing. "You mean that all the Slytherins have received detention? From what happened earlier?"

"No," Fred sighed, exchanging a look with George. "They stole a rare potion concoction from Snape-"

"That transforms animagi into rodents for three month periods the next time they resume form-"

"And they were caught handing it to McGonagall in her teacup with dessert, and-"

"She insisted on detention. Snape gave them 100 points though, for their Slytherin-like approach to getting out of their term assignments."

"That'll at least make things easier on the prefects tonight," Percy said, and sitting on the edge of his bed, Oliver wondered if his roommate had missed the potential severity of that situation. He watched him turn to Hermione and say, "Are you still up for this?"

She flushed. "Oh, yes, Percy! Er- Head Boy. Percy. Head Boy Percy."

Ron burst out laughing, Percy and Oliver exchanging an amused expression. "It's ok, Hermione. Relax. You're the best Gryffindor for the job."

"Ouch!" the twins said simultaneously, though they grinned at her.

Percy gave them a mock glare. "As I was saying, they can be rowdy, so I don't want you to do these rooms yourself. Take Ron with you, all right?"

It was an interesting contrast, Oliver thought, watching Hermione open her mouth as though to object and Ron blinking at his brother in surprise.

"I'd ask her to take you as well, Harry," Percy continued, "but I'm certain your captain would have my head if I were to keep his seeker from getting a good night's sleep."

"Damn right," Oliver muttered good-naturedly.

Fred nudged George, smirking. "You know, married couples."

"Don't tease them, Fred. I hear making-up is the fun part."

"Anyway," Harry hurriedly chimed in, looking at the seventh-years pointedly, making sure he had their attention. "Since the Slytherins are in detention, we can have their practice time on the pitch. They're suppose to have it now, so-"

A surge of energy raced through his body, propelling the captain to his feet. "Why didn't you say so, Harry? Come on! Get moving, guys. Get the others, and hit the field!"

Watching the others hurriedly race out the door, Oliver felt Percy's eyes on him. "I'll carry your knapsack, Ol. You have enough to handle already."

Grateful that the twins weren't in the room to hear his roommate's offer, Oliver flashed him a smile and began to zipper his broom case. Already his mind was focused on the plays needed against Slytherin for Wednesday's game, and he barely heard Percy's voice amongst his own thoughts.

"Thanks again, Hermione. You're going to make a great prefect. Er- Ron, you don't mind helping her, do you? It'd look great for you, too, and the fifth years really can be-"

From the corner of his eye, Oliver saw Ron wave a hand. "It's all right. Hey, it might just be fun. I'd go anyways, whether you asked me or not."

"As long as you understand," Hermione started, her tone sharp, "that I'm allowing you to accompany me because you're my friend, not because I need-"

Voices faded as the third-years made their way out the door. Catching his roommate's eye and nodding, Oliver handed over his knapsack and juggled the broomstick, playbook and Quidditch gear in his arms. Hermione's voice still echoed to their room, her pointed words reminding him of Percy's own 'head-boy voice' (as Dave would often describe it).

Clipping the light switch off with his shoulder, Oliver's mind wandered back to their earlier conversation before the others appeared, suddenly remembering how casual and comfortable Percy sounded, and how his quiet words seemed to draw him closer. Which wasn't surprising, he reasoned, as he was always like that with Oliver. And yet, he couldn't help but wonder if his friend ever spoke like that in front of Penelope. Or had it been just-

Oliver shook his head, glancing at Percy over his shoulder. He'd be glad when he could finally put this long day behind him.

--

**Next Time: Quidditch practice and the end of this first day (finally!)**


	4. 

Huge thank-you's and cupcakes to Nichol for the beta (she's a very lovely person who writes here under GeorgeandFredWeasley, so please check her stuff out). Wow – look at those reviews! Thank you very much, they are always surprising to receive and so much fun to read, I truly appreciate every single one of them :)

Disclaimer: JK Rowling and Warner Bros. own Harry Potter. No copyright infringement is intended. (Oh, but I own Dave and Karen)

Note: With credit/apology to Joss Whedon's "Angel" and the episode "Epiphany" (which inspired the end of this chapter).  
  
--

Chapter 4: Quidditch Practice (1)

In the stand nearest the goalpost, Percy sat amongst his books and papers, his wand fastened behind his head boy badge and charmed to cast a faint glow at its tip. Occasionally, a swift wind would pass by and he would look onto the field, trying to deduce which player had flown by. But his eyes were accustomed to his own light and the work he brought, and all he saw on the pitch were dark shadows against dim moonlight.

The sound of basic instructions bellowed in a heavier than normal Scottish accent provided the only clues to Oliver's nearby presence. Muttered grunts and excessive profanity would drift his way, only to be interrupted by another "Fly Higher!" or "Defense!" or "I said, FIND THE SNITCH! Not DITCH!" order. After nearly three hours of practice, Percy was more than content with his athletically-challenged, book-driven existence (which was subsequently confirmed when Percy heard Oliver yell, "Rogue Snitch! Duck, Perce! ").

He'd almost snapped his wand after that one.

Percy rubbed his cold hands together and tried hard to concentrate, staring at the blurred words of his textbook. But he had long since finished his work and now his thoughts had turned to his duties. Normally, he'd be finishing his head boy chores around this time, having already completed the Monday night tutorials in the library earlier. As there were no other prefects for Gryffindor this year, he'd head back to his house and attend to the prefect's duties, usually finding time to write his daily report once everyone was sound asleep. And if the headmaster believed that the halls required further surveillance, he would have to patrol until the early-morning hours.

Bending his head back, Percy yawned deeply, waving a lazy hand in front of his mouth. He was never lacking for responsibilities, especially in a school the size of Hogwarts, and often just thinking about his duties sent a wave of fatigue through him. And yet, similar to Oliver's passion for Quidditch, there was no other way he'd rather spend his school years.

His thoughts drifted back to earlier that evening when he was speaking with Oliver, who hovered so close and stared hard into his eyes. A shudder of embarrassment ran through him at the memory of realizing he was staring back, and Percy hoped his roommate hadn't detected anything different. Thankfully, the others arrived before- Before what, Percy wondered before he shook his head at his foolish thoughts. Whatever had he been thinking earlier?

His reflections on the dormitory suddenly reminded him of Hermione and Ron and, consulting his watch once more (small hand pointed to _Head Boy Duties_), he reasoned that they should be finishing their shift about now. I hope they didn't have too many problems, he thought, laying his head against the edge of the seat behind him and resting his eyes.

If there was a problem, Dave was there, he reassured himself. And Penelope. And Adam, too. He'd be with her… There, tonight…

Taking a sigh, Percy felt himself drift into sleep. He felt so very tired.

A muscle spasm jerked his leg, driving his eyes open once more, and he glanced down at his watch. The small hand hadn't moved. Well, when did it, he thought amusedly, closing his eyes once more. I can do this, he reassured himself, trying to allow the tension to leave his body. I'm not the first one that's had to give up some authority. The other prefects will watch over Hermione. And Ron. Adam will watch Penelope. With those brown eyes of his. Like Oliver's. No, not as nice as Oliver's…

Percy yawned again, drifting back into a deep sleep. __

THUD!

"WESLEYS! WHAT THAT HELL ARE YOU DOING TO ANGELINA? DOES SHE LOOK LIKE A BLUNGER TO YOU?"

Jumping from his seat, Percy's textbooks scattered around him. His wand flung off his badge and landed in his lap where (thankfully) he tossed it aside and narrowly avoided an embarrassing incident. Ignoring the mess around him, he squinted his eyes as he leaned over the railing and stared down onto the pitch. After a few tense seconds, his hair blew as the wind shifted upwards, and he wasn't surprised when he heard a Scottish accent yell from right above him, "SHE'S ALRIGHT. EVERYONE HIT THE SHOWERS."

"About time," Percy muttered, staring at the burn in his robe and wondering how long it would take him to repair.

--

Carrying the Quidditch supplies he found laying around the field, Oliver nodded at his teammates as they passed out of the Gryffindor locker room. After a grueling practice, he often found himself tidying the field alone, waiting until his weary (and usually upset) players finished showering. Judging by the few nods returned, tonight's practice would leave them bitter for days. Well, at least till Gryffindor won their next game, he reminded himself. Then he'd get the smiles.

After all his teammates left the room, Oliver undressed slowly, careful to avoid the newly scarred areas. The practice had been particularly hard on his body, his left shoulder already starting to bruise from when he raced down to catch Angelina's fall. He knew he'd have a purple mark on his hip, where the rogue snitch caught him instead of Percy. And the back of his legs… He shuddered at the thought. He didn't want to know what it looked like back there.

Stripped to his underwear, Oliver sat on a bench and closed his eyes. He could make out the vague sound of voices coming from just outside the locker room door.

"How'd it look, Percy?" Must be Harry. Only he would still be personable after tonight.

"It looked great. Though it was a bit difficult to see in the dark. I'm sure that would help your intuition, though. Right?"

Oliver smiled, his eyes still closed, and for a brief moment, he could see Dave sitting around him, talking about Quidditch as they often did, and Percy sitting silently as he concentrated on his books. And then, just when they believed to have reasoned out every possible strategy, Percy would look up and announce everything that was wrong about their plans, going so far as to prove his point using an empty classroom and ten pieces of chalk.

As the school year raced by, he had come to realize how much he cherished times such as those. There wasn't a day that went by when he wondered how he got so lucky, or how he was going to manage without them come June.

Running his fingers absentmindedly through his hair, Oliver's thoughts turned to the day's events. He was well aware of just how lucky he and Percy had been. If the Slytherins hadn't gotten detention, or if Plum's class had been earlier that day, or if they weren't already close friends- Oliver shuddered at the thought. It all seemed surreal, like a movie or some comical plot of an 80's sitcom.

Walking to the showers, he glanced at himself in the mirror, his eyes focusing on an older scar, one that was unrelated to Quidditch, which ran down his abdomen and past the black elastic band of his underwear. Yet another reminder of my popularity, he thought wryly, tossing the clothing aside and hurrying into a steamy shower. And yet another reason he wouldn't leave his roommate alone this week. Under the water, his fingers traced the mark, and he wondered if Percy's position as head boy, if his relationship with Penelope, would be enough to keep something like this from happening to him.

Turning off the water and briefly resting his head on the cold tiled wall, Oliver muttered, "It will just have to be." Images of being pushed against these same tiles, as the Slytherin team came in upset from a game loss and taking their frustrations out on Oliver, came flooding back to him. The thought of this - something – anything – happening to Percy was too much to take and, grabbing a towel with his hand, he rapidly tied it around his waist, and walked back towards the locker area.

Trying to empty his mind of the day, he whistled absentmindedly. He ran his hands through dripping hair, only vaguely aware of the trail of water left behind him. His eyes skimmed the corner of the room, searching out the underwear he tossed aside, when he felt the hairs on the back of his neck brush up. He surveyed the room, his eyes eventually adjusting under the florescent lighting to notice Percy huddled on a bench in the corner.

The redhead was watching him through half-lidded eyes, his hands neatly folded on his hap. When Oliver had spotted him, he smiled. "Ol? Why is a Scottish lad such as yourself singing 'When Irish Eyes are Smiling?'"

Taken off guard, Oliver laughed heartily, pushing his earlier worries aside, and started towards Percy's bench. "Didn't even realize. My mum would sing it all the time. It was catchy, you know?"

Percy nodded. "Like 'Achy Breaky Heart.' I just couldn't seem to get it out of my head when I was younger."

Any restraint Oliver might have shown was destroyed in the late night hour, and he couldn't stop the laughter that spilled forth. He tightened his hand on the towel knot and leaned against a locker opposite his roommate. "You're a mystery, Perce. You really are. But we should best keep that to ourselves, I think. If the twins ever-"

As he spoke, Oliver's eyes had been searching the room, trying to spot the area he dropped his clothing. But there was no sign of any clothing anywhere – not his practice clothing, his robe or even his underwear. All of his clothing was missing save for the sneakers that sat on Percy's bench. Shoelaces tied.

"What is it, Ol?" Percy's voice was quiet, similar to the tone he used whenever Gryffindor lost a game.

"Your brothers," he said slowly, trying to quell his temper. "Your brothers. They. Stole. My. Clothes."

"Come again?" Percy asked, an eyebrow cocked, and Oliver could see the corners of his lips twitch.

"Oh, Perce."

He sat on the bench, bent over, his elbows resting on his knees and his head resting on fists. He felt Percy place a warm hand on his bare shoulder, and winced. The gesture was common amongst them, especially when accompanied by a hot cup of _something_ and the revelation of a hidden stash of chocolate. But to feel those long fingers on his bare shoulder surprised Oliver, the memories of earlier that evening coming back to him. Percy and bright blue eyes, breath of … God, how Percy must hate him. Oliver forced himself to look up.

"Er- thanks, Perce. It's all right. They do that sometimes. Usually after a long practice," he managed a tight smile. Lately, even with his love of Quidditch, the pressures of the game and his lack of time outside of the pitch seemed to make everything that went wrong feel more serious than (he knew) it actually was.

"I did see them duck back in here while Harry and I were chatting. Here," Percy stood, removing his cloak, and handed it to Oliver. "I'm wearing a heavy sweater underneath, anyways."

With a grateful smile, Oliver took the robe and, dropping his towel, wrapped it around him. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Percy stiffen and turn to face the other wall. He was about to make a snide remark when:

"Ol, what's that scar from?"

"You mean, which game is it from? Honestly Perce, there are other ways to injure oneself other than muscle strains from lifting textbooks."

"Not true. I've a bruise on my foot when I knocked some off the library table yesterday," his roommate teased, finally turning back around to face him. His tone grew serious as he added, "And you know what scar I mean. That's not from any game, Ol."

His heart pounding, Oliver concentrated on buttoning his robe, watching his fingers with interest, and pretended to only half hear his roommate. Feeling Percy's unwavering stare, he bent down to lace his shoes and tried to change the subject.

"You laced my sneakers?"

Percy sighed. As though realizing he wouldn't get a clear answer out of Oliver, he said, "It's a compulsion."

"That 'P' on your sweater for 'prefect,' 'perfect' or 'Percy?'"

"Sometimes it stands for 'Piss Off,' actually."

"I didn't know 'khaki' was a Hogwarts-approved color for pants."

"Your point?"

Finishing with the laces, Oliver stood. "No point. Wouldn't want to upset you, Tough Guy."

The redhead hit him gently, smiling, and then picked up a knapsack. "That's Head Boy Tough Guy to you. Hey Ol, you know that anytime you need-"

"Yeah. I know. We'd better beat it, Perce. Any longer and-"

"I'd have to fine myself. I know, I know. Really, it's time for a new one, Ol."

Chuckling behind him, Oliver picked up his supplies and followed Percy towards the castle. Overtired from the day's events (and weary from the late practice), both boys walked swiftly through Hogwarts, not minding their eerie surroundings or the comfortable silence between them.

Percy muttered the password to enter the Gryffindor dormitories, and they ducked inside only to hear:

"Damn. I told you Percy would lend him his robe."

"Had to see it to believe it."

"A little drafty under there, Wood?"

Oliver followed Percy's quick walk up the stairs, not looking at the twins. He muttered in passing, "Honestly, fellows. Let's see a little originality next time. Or at least, this effort put into something worthwhile like Quidditch."

"You're not training them hard enough, Wood," Percy mumbled, and Oliver could tell he was trying not to smile with him. In a much louder voice, he continued to call behind him, "Fred, George. It's late. Go to bed."

"And is that where you two are going?" George yelled up the stairs.

"Yes. Just as you two are, I'm sure."

Oliver laughed softly, hearing the twins set up the stairs after them, complaining and (it seemed) trying to assure each other that tomorrow would bring more opportunities. How are we going to make it through six more days of twin antics, he thought, hearing the twins enter the fifth-year room.

A strong wave of fatigue settled over Oliver as he entered the room and dumped the Quidditch supplies onto the couch. After a swish of his wand that turned on the kettle beside his bed, he grabbed his clothes and changed quickly in the bathroom down the hall. He heard a whistle as he walked back, barefoot, and entered the room to see Percy carefully spooning cocoa into one mug. Beside it, a teabag string hung out of chipped teacup.

"One more scoop, Perce. I need it."

Already in his tatty pinstriped pajamas, Percy silently dumped another spoonful of cocoa before stirring both cups with his wand and handing the mug to Oliver.

"Thanks."

Percy nodded, heading towards his bed with his teacup and a book under his arm. Papers were sticking out of the cover of the book and, noticing Oliver staring at them with a curious look to his face, he explained, "Hermione left a letter. I'm just about to read it."

"Oh?" Oliver said, his voice pitching up as though he were trying to encourage Percy to continue. Which, of course, he was.

Percy sat on his bed, the cover already pulled back, and skimmed the letter. His eyes not leaving the page, he took a short sip of his tea before placing it on the nightstand, and then drew his legs under the sheets with the cover pulled tightly under his chin. For a brief moment, Oliver thought he wasn't going share what he was reading until he heard him say thoughtfully, "She did well. Looks like Dave kept making sure she was all right. There was a brief altercation with the fourth years-"

"Figures," Oliver muttered, sipping his too-hot hot chocolate.

"But he smoothed things over."

Oliver looked over his mug. "Doesn't sound like Dave."

"Fourth-year _girls_."

Oliver nodded, turning his attention back to his drink. "Sounds like Dave."

Percy placed the letter on his nightstand and picked up his teacup, holding it thoughtfully in both hands. "I know Hermione won't mind helping again tomorrow, but-"

"You want to keep on top of things, I know," Oliver said, smiling as he met Percy's gaze. "We'll figure out something tomorrow. Did she really finish all of that list you had?"

"Quite a bit of it. More than I thought she would," the redhead admitted, running a finger absentmindedly over the chipped rim.

After a silent moment, Oliver said quietly, "I appreciate what you did tonight. I didn't think we could have missed that practice. You know, sometimes it seems…" He trailed off.

Percy gave him a small smile. "I'm not sure you'll feel as good about the practice tomorrow. That was pretty tough out there. From what I could hear, that is."

"Yeah, it was," Oliver said quietly, draining the last of his cocoa. "You know, Perce… Sometimes, I-…" He trailed off, unsure of how to vocalize how he was feeling.

"I know, Ol."

"It's just – hard, you know?"

"Yes. That it is."

Oliver looked up to see Percy nodding slowly, staring at the pattern on his teacup. In a heavy tone that he had meant to sound light and carefree, he said hurriedly, "Kinda funny, isn't it? How it's only you and me here, together in Gryffindor, with nobody else for this year. Do you ever wonder who would have been prefect if there were no Gryffindors seven years ago? Who would be head boy? Or Keeper, even?"

A sigh came from across the room that sounded sad and weighted with fatigue. "I do, yes."

Silence.

Oliver yawned. He knew he should be climbing under the covers and turning out the light, but his silent fears, brought on with the late hour, were too pressing to stop him from quietly muttering, "Sometimes, I wonder if it's all worth it."

"The load does feel heavy at times," Percy paused. "A lot of times."

"Aye."

"But," his roommate continued, as though he hadn't been interrupted, "I never question whether or not it's worth it."

"Well, of course. With your future plans for-"

Percy jerked his head up, his eyes suddenly aware. "No," he said quickly, then lowered his gaze back to his teacup. "That's not all of it. Not all of it at all." He took another gulp before placing it on the nightstand, picking up his wand to mutter a quick charm before the room dissolved into darkness.

As Oliver turned to tuck himself under his blankets, he was surprised to hear Percy speak again, his voice heavy and his words measured. "We do good work, Ol, and perhaps I'm being sentimental, I don't know. But I think the extra hours in the library or the Quidditch pitch are worth every single minute that we put in. And more."

"I know that. But even you have to admit, there are times it seems-"

"Hard. Damn hard," his roommate interrupted. Oliver jumped a bit, startled at the strong voice that now came at him in the dark. "But I wouldn't stop doing what I do if I began to fail my classes or the ministry collapsed, or even if I was relegated to janitorial duty in Myrtle's toilet!"

Oliver took a deep breathing, pausing for thought. His roommates' words were unexpected and they hung in the air for an awkward moment, until a much softer voice said:

"Does it really matter that you're the Quidditch captain and I'm the head boy? The titles that describe what roles our hard work, our qualities, earned. But you can take away this badge and I'd still watch out for the younger years and keep the older students in line. Give up my free time to tutor others. And that's a far greater reason to keep going, more important than my parents' and Dumbledore's approval, or even the admiration of the entire study body at Hogwarts. Even more than a line on a resume."

He continued, pausing only briefly for a quick breath. "And I know you'd still be out there everyday, even if you weren't the captain – hell! Even if you weren't on the team, you'd be at the pitch, pushing the players to do better, to think faster on their brooms." Percy's voice trailed off, and Oliver could hear the emotion in it as he said, even more gently, "I just want to make a difference. Because… If I don't make it through Hogwarts or to the ministry or become minister, then…" his voice kept trailing, as though he thought he words sounded meek.

After a moment, Oliver chanced saying, "Then what, Perce?"

He heard his roommate take a deep breath. "Then the only good change I would have made is in my time here. And what I do here, what I make of myself and especially, what I can give to others, is all that matters in the end."

Oliver sunk back into his pillows, the meaning of Percy's words hitting him hard and, though his words felt true, he had never been able to vocalize precisely why he continued on when life seemed dim. When there were no more games to be won, or he was recovering from yet another assault (physical or verbal, they seemed all the same sometimes), or even when he wondered why he had gone to a place as academically prestigious as Hogwarts rather than a more sports-involved school.

And Percy was right. _Right._ For all the times he wondered why, there were dozens (seemingly hundreds) of memories when he found a new promising Quidditch player, or participated in a new teammate's first game win, or experienced that rush of excitement as he realized the extra practice paid off.

His hands shaking, Oliver slid his legs under the sheets and lifted a heavy quilt up his chest. His roommate knew him well, and though Oliver believed he knew his roommate as much, the intense feeling of pride and accomplishment that surged inside surprised him. For all the times he had known Percy and seen all his good as well as his not-so-good traits, he never thought he could take such kind and gentle words and use them in a way that touched him _so deeply_. And then, perhaps, Oliver mused, Percy needed to hear himself say those words just as much as he did.

"Perce?"

"Yeah?"

Oliver smiled, and he hoped Percy could sense his expression as he sunk further into his pillows and said contently, "Thanks."

And as he closed his eyes and tried to quiet his mind, it occurred to Oliver that he was finding there was quite a bit more to his friend than he had known this morning.

--

**Next Time: The happy couple enters the second day of their assignment. They're inspired, a little confused, and determined to find out what's going on. **


	5. 

  
  
Thank you so much for the wonderful reviews to the last chapter (and the suggestions!) – they were much appreciated (as always!) especially those who have commented on each one. Here's the latest chapter (aka the one that kicked my ass) – we're moving forward but still very slowly.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter & Co, nor do I claim to. Dave & Karen are mine.

Notes: Like the beer ad proclaims - I. Am. Canadian. Please take this story with the light-hearted naivety of someone who enjoys the idea of Percy and Oliver together, even in a British school that's somewhat (very) 'Canadian-ized.'

--

Chapter 5: A Rough Start (Day 2)

The winter sun wouldn't appear until seven or eight o'clock in the morning, long after both Percy and Oliver were dressed and headed towards their respective classes. But even before Oliver cracked an eye open, just before his roommate's God-forsaken, Stonehenge-era alarm clock blared at six, he knew this wouldn't be an ordinary school morning. Today was Day Two (_is it really only Tuesday?_) that he'd have to act with Percy in a mock marriage exercise of man and er- other man.

He heard the rustle of Percy's sheets and tightening his eyes shut, Oliver pretended to still be asleep as he scurried by. Not for the first time, Percy had flung his robe out in an attempt at decency over his pajamas, the edge hitting Oliver's pillow. He felt his hair lift from the breeze, the familiar scent of used textbooks and old parchment washing over his face. All of which, he knew, Percy kept under his bed as he never seemed able to part with anything. _Chalk another benefit to growing up an only child_, Oliver thought, knowing the only things under his bed were his broomstick and a variety of cleaning supplies. And Quidditch-related game books. Some old broomsticks too, actually, that he never seemed to be able to part with. And some Quidditch action figures, still in their separate collectable cases and complete with accessories. Oh, and a variety of playing cards that –

Oliver sighed. Apparently he wasn't much better than Percy at controlling his rat-packing tendencies. Especially, now that he thought about it, letting go of anything that reminded him of good times. But that was different; it wasn't as though Percy was holding onto old parchment for the same reasons. He paused in thought, remembering this was the same person who volunteered to take his old school books last year for fear of Oliver participating in the annual textbook bonfire in June. _Yes, he would most definitely hang onto old parchment for sentimental reasons. _

That thought gave him a smile, one that he still wore as he passed Percy in the hallway, his towel over one arm and robes over the other. Percy gave him a short nod, continuing to walk by, his step long and brisk. This was the normal morning routine between them, as Percy learned quickly that Oliver didn't think clearly until a cup of tea and a slice of toast was placed in front of him.

Most mornings, that is.

As Oliver washed quickly, his thoughts were concentrated on their conversation last night. He admitted he felt more alive and in control today, more positive towards enjoying this last year of school, than he had in a long time. Too often, it was hard (or as Percy more accurately stated, damn hard) to remain in _that_ role he had carved for himself, the popular Quidditch captain that always pushed for the best of his teammates and himself. But since fifth year, when his housemates became aware of his dating preferences, he was subject to a kind of depression.

It wasn't a depression that a talk with McGonagall or Pomphrey could fix, or any professional for that matter. Oliver knew himself to be an intelligent young man, perhaps not as book smart as Percy or savvy as Dave but he had enough common sense to know why he felt down, not caring about his future or his friends or even, yes, Quidditch. Sometimes, it was all that he could do to push through the days, as nothing was _the same _as it used to be, before he was 'outed.'

And though he tried to make the most of his schooldays, living off the short highs that were becoming even scarcer, the thought always existed in the back of his mind: When's the other shoe going to drop? Who's going to come after me, after my friends, today? What if they discover I'm not this good a Keeper, that I've been just lucky for years? What if they realize-

But last night, to hear Percy's words spoken with fervor and laced with determination, had given him hope. And it had been a long time – too long, really, Oliver reflected, wrapping a towel around his waist – that someone had cared enough for him, felt comfortable around him, to say such blunt words that he so desperately needed to hear.

He felt- like himself. _Like myself_, he repeated silently.

His features fogged over from the steam, Oliver could barely make out his reflection in the bathroom mirror. He knew that only when the steam cleared, he'd be able to see the bruises from Quidditch games. And the leftover, almost-faded scars from his encounters with students, their only reason for attacking him being a foolish confession a few years prior.

And yet, truly, Oliver was content. Calm had enveloped his body, giving him a source of confidence he hadn't felt in a lot time. He'd been through a difficult period and now was strong enough to look back through experienced eyes. He felt older, sure, but also weathered and strong.

Shaking his head at his foolish thoughts and giving a soft laugh, he quickly dried and changed into his clothes, not wanting to remain in the bathroom when the younger years awoke.

Upon opening his room door his attention was drawn to Percy fluffing a pillow. He watched as his roommate stood back, his hand on his chin as though deep in thought, and then moved the pillow over a few inches.

Laughing as he threw his pajamas in the heap of blankets on his own disheveled bed, Oliver startled him by saying, "You know, I won't tell if you put the pillow off a few inches. Our little secret."

He was shot a deadpan stare that traveled deliberately from his eyes to his bed before Percy resumed smoothing out his blanket.

"I get it, Perce," he said in an amused voice, turning his attention to making his own bed. He cleared his throat. "Hey? I- well, I-"

He felt a tug on his blanket and, looking up, saw that Percy had moved from his bed to help Oliver make his. "Yeah, Ol?" he said, his voice soft but his eyes bright, reminding Oliver just how much of a morning person he really was.

Oliver busied himself with tucking in his end as his roommate did the same to the other. "I want to thank you for last night. I'd never had- I mean, to have someone that, you know, would- And today, I feel so much more-" He sighed, finally looking at Percy's face and, seeing a knowing smile, matched his expression.

Percy gave a shrug, finishing with his corner and grabbing the pillows off the floor. "I didn't mean to be pretentious. It's just-" He sighed deeply, then said quietly, "Sometimes, thinking about life like that, it's the only way I can get through my days here."

Oliver nodded, though he doubted his roommate had seen him. "I do appreciate it, Perce. Just what I needed."

"You'd do the same for me," Percy said, continuing quickly as though he knew he would be interrupted. "You always do. It's just – sometimes, I think you don't realize it. I'm sorry, this isn't coming out right. But… you understand."

Oliver's smile deepened and as he reached for the pillow from Percy, their hands brushed together, unmoving. He just couldn't seem to take his eyes away from-

"Did you get that all, Fred?"

Oliver's head snapped towards the doorway, dropping his end of the pillow. Fred and George stood together, a notebook and pen in each of their hands, still dressed in their own matching (and tattered) pajamas and looking at them as though they were examining a curious science experiment.

_Which wasn't far from the truth_, Oliver thought grimly as he remembered the assignment. Why couldn't they look this awake during the early morning Quidditch practices?

"So, I don't suppose you wish to confess what exactly occurred last night that you're thankful for, Captain Wood?" Fred said in a serious voice, his pen poised on the notebook as though he were working for the Daily Prophet.

"And what precisely, Mr. Weasley-"

"That's Head Boy Weasley, George," Fred interrupted, pointing his pen at his brother before resuming his note taking.

"My apologies. Head Boy Weasley. What precisely does Captain Wood do to you that he doesn't even realize?"

Oliver turned to face Percy, biting his bottom lip to keep from smiling. In his newfound good mood, he couldn't help but laugh at the twins antics, even knowing that their conversation this morning would be hot news amongst the breakfast crowd.

To his surprise, Percy's eyes were also full of mirth, though the scowl on his face would suggest otherwise to those who didn't know any better. Such as Fred and George who, upon seeing their brother's expression, quickly tipped imaginary hats and ran from the room.

"I'll meet you in the Great Hall, Ol," he said, handing Oliver his pillow and grabbing his robe and books under his arm before heading out the room, presumably after the twins.

"Don't forget your Charms assignment," his voice yelled from the corridor.

Damn. He'd forgotten about that. The paper itself was finished last weekend, thanks to Percy's constant reminders (and truth be told, tutorage), but where to find it was a challenge in itself

"Just a sec, 'k Perce?" Oliver yelled over his shoulder, bending to his knees and reaching under the bed. _Has to be here, has to be here. Come on, stupid piece of– Ah, here it is_.

He gave a satisfied grunt as he pulled a rolled parchment from under the bed followed by half the contents of his (newly-discovered) packrat tendencies. He tossed them back under the bed, not wanting to keep his roommate waiting much longer but also not wanting to deal with that damned 'tsk' sound Percy would make if he saw the room in any sort of disarray. _And what would he say, discovering the mess under this bed_! Oliver threw everything back under: broken broomstick handle, souvenir snitch, photograph-

He stopped to put the photo on the top of his bed and then resumed stuffing everything else back under. Once the floor was cleaned again (with the bed now tilting a tad to the right), he stared at the picture. It had been taken at the end of his sixth year, when he and Percy were celebrating their last weekend together at Hogsmeade. The photo had been a present for Percy's birthday – rather its copy had, as Oliver couldn't part with the picture. After all, their time together would all be over soon enough.

He smiled at the images. Over the heads of Photo Dave and Photo Karen, Photo Percy and Photo Oliver were laughing together, making hand gestures behind their heads and fending off mock annoyed looks from the couple. Every few moments, they'd switch so Dave could cuddle with Karen in the corner, while Oliver and Percy spoke closely to each other, using wide arm gestures and laughing often.

One would think there were two couples in this photograph, Oliver thought amusedly.

And then-

It came to him.

Flashes of late-night chats, cups of cocoa and tea, whispered teases, comforting hugs and accidental touches that both young men stopped pulling away from long ago. Percy's unexplainable - improbable even! - relationship with Penelope. Oliver's date-less Friday nights, which – thanks to Percy's friendship – he never spent alone. And how blue eyes spoke more truth to him than even his own.

Oliver suddenly felt very ill. Perhaps it was his newfound confidence, this contentment that had finally given him a shade of inspiration in his life. Or even the charms from this assignment. Yes, that was it. Could it be-

_Damn._

For whatever reason, Oliver realized, his heart pounding in his throat, he had fallen for his best friend.

--

"Fred! George!" Percy yelled, running down the hallway and, upon catching up to them, rested his hands on his knees, his breath shallow and harsh. He swallowed loudly, trying to quell the nausea that was growing in his empty stomach. "We need to talk."

A bell clanged in the distance, indicating it was half-past six, the time all younger years should be waking up.

Lord. It wasn't like Percy had anything else to do.

Coughing a little before straightening up, he watched as Fred exchanged a smile with George and start, "Actually, dear brother, we were thinking about going into the publish-"

"I don't care. I just _don't _care!" Percy tried to steady his breathing, knowing he was on the verge of one of his infamous panic attacks. Breath in, breath out. Lower your tone. _That's it_, he silently encouraged himself. "You know, you might want to think up some new material. You've already published a paper detailing my nighttime patrol route at the first of this year. Really! A little originality, please."

Both twins simultaneously rolled their eyes and crossed their arms.

"This is about Oliver. Listen, I don't care what you do to me. It's nothing worse than you already have done time and time again." He held up his hand to stop Fred from interrupting. "But there's a match tomorrow, and you know what this means to him. It means the same thing to both of you, and I'd hate for your actions now to be the cause of what might…"

Percy stopped, unsure of how much his brothers knew of Oliver's troubles with the Slytherins.

Fred caught on before he could cover his hesitancy. "You mean. You mean, they've been… I thought that stopped last year."

"Oh," George said quietly and, exchanging a look with Fred, turned to Percy and quickly said, "We don't mean anything by it. We're just-"

"I know," Percy nodded, giving his younger brothers a small smile. "But this just adds fuel to their own reasons for, well, you know, and, well. If you could keep your, er, _comments_, limited to-"

"No problem, Perce," George said, folding over his notebook.

Voices could be heard approaching from behind him and knowing he would have to run to make it to breakfast with Oliver, Percy nodded at the twins and rushed down the hall.

Perhaps if he'd been less eager to get to breakfast, he might have seen the puzzled looks exchanged between his brothers and heard them say:

"What do you make of that, Fred? You don't think-"

"They're friends. And you know what Percy's like." Though his voice was firm, Fred sounded more as if he were trying to convince himself rather than his brother.

George sighed. "Yeah, I do know. But this seems…"

Both brothers gave each other small smiles, not willing to voice their thoughts aloud but both silently agreeing that whatever friendship did exist between Oliver and their brother, their curiosity wasn't about to end.

As it was, Percy hadn't heard his brothers, his thoughts too concentrated on forming what to say at this morning's prefects meeting. The usual would suffice: hallway patrol, a review of the excepted students for today, an assessment of any problems from the night before.

Not for the first time, it occurred to Percy that the prestige attached with to the Head Boy was somewhat overrated.

The morning sun still yet to rise, Percy took his seat in the Great Hall and took in the surroundings. Breakfast was an informal affair at Hogwarts, and students usually showed up at different times throughout the morning, the majority arriving just before classes began at eight. Certainly very few would venture in at a quarter to seven, though early Quidditch practice usually meant the team would join him and Oliver. This morning was no exception as only school prefects sat at the house tables, even the faculty preferring to dine at their own leisure and in private.

Secretly, Percy enjoyed the independence of being in the Hall, surrounded by few of his peers, no teachers expecting him to maintain order as Head Boy. A part of him believed Oliver might feel the same way, though they never discussed why they dined so early together. _It just made sense_, he thought, that his only roommate and best friend would prefer to eat with a fellow seventh-year than anyone else.

Of course, that logic never applied to Dave who, Percy noticed with a sigh, still hadn't arrived at the Hall. Though he was a fellow prefect and 'quite brilliant in the idiot savant sort of way' (as Percy's often teased), he wasn't an early riser like the others. And it didn't help that as Head Boy, it was his job to make sure the prefects were gathered for their early morning meeting. Lord, how he hated repeating himself.

With a shake of his head and a small smile at this thought, Percy began buttering a piece of toast. For as long as he could remember, he had been close friends with Dave and Oliver, and the thought of their trio going in separate directions at the end of this year felt like it would break him at times. Dave, he knew, would be gone to university in America with Karen in tow. And Oliver would be traveling with some major league Quidditch team, no doubt exploring the better part of Europe and the Americas, making good money and surrounded often by crazed 'fangirls' that threw underwear at him.

As though in protest, his heart pounded.

From jealousy?

Percy scoffed at the idea. Why would he be jealous of Oliver surrounded by pretty girls? After all, he himself had Penelope. And Oliver was – well, he _is _gay, Percy thought, taking a bite of toast without actually tasting it. He coughed from the dryness and reached for his hot tea.

It was ignorance, really. Oliver rarely dated and, of course, he wasn't the type of guy to discuss his latest crush with his friends or actively pursue some random guy. Nor was he likely to walk around Dave and Percy, nudging them and whispering, "Ay! Check 'at guy owt. 'ice 'ite buns 'ere, huh, fellows? 'ant to get ee 'ome of 'at!"

Percy chuckled, Oliver's accent much more thicker (and quite un-Scotsman-like) in his thought than reality, creating a sort of poorly acted, American pirate persona.

"Care to share, Perce?"

He looked up from his breakfast into Oliver's brown eyes, and shaking his head, said, "Trust me. You don't want to know!"

But instead of giving his usual protest, Oliver, his cheeks flushed and his eyes now turned downcast, sat down across from him and began buttering his own toast.

It occurred to Percy that he seemed – upset? Yes, there was definitely something on Oliver's mind that wasn't there only a few minutes ago. It wasn't like him to be upset, especially over the twins' actions, but their persistence, along with the heavy Quidditch practice and their chat last night, could have been wearing him down.

Perhaps this thought would cheer him up. "I was thinking about you," he started.

Oliver's head jerked up, giving Percy a look akin to a deer caught in front of the Hogwarts' Express.

"About- About me?" he said, sharply, apprehensively. His eyebrows were furrowed, his eyes startled, but Percy continued to nod his head, drawing his eyes down to his toast. _This story will get his mind off the twins_, he thought, finishing off a piece of the crust.

"Yes. About your accent. I was thinking about how you might say something and it came out more like a pirate. A poorly acted pirate, that is, with an American accent. I can't seem to get your dialect down." Percy looked up, his eyes belying his mischievousness. "I'll try to do it for you later."

That brought a smile to Oliver's face. "Something tells me I won't forget that. Make sure Dave's around, I'd hate to have to repeat it."

Percy rolled his eyes, taking another sip of tea.

Fiddling with his own breakfast, tearing off the crusts of bread, Oliver looked at him curiously. "Dialects interest you, don't they?"

Absentmindedly, Percy began to eat his roommate's discarded crusts, his silence encouraging his roommate to explain.

"In the room last night. When we spoke before the team arrived, I thought-" Oliver grew quiet and thoughtful, as though considering his words carefully. "Well, I thought you sounded more casual for a moment there, a bit more… Relaxed?"

Percy gave him a small smile. "Had a bit of a lisp as a child. Seemed to take forever until I was able to pronounce things correctly. Every now and then-"

"So, you consciously try to speak better? In front of me, too?" Oliver interrupted, his tone rising with surprise.

Percy shook his head slightly. "Well, not quite all the time. It's just… Practiced, you know?"

"Perce," Oliver started, leaning across the table as though about to confide a secret. He'd dropped his toast and now his hands fiddled together nervously. "I want you to know that – Well, that you don't need to feel that you have to _act _a certain way with me, and-"

Percy held out his hand for Oliver to stop, giving a shaky laugh and smile as to not seem rude. Oliver was his friend, his _best friend_, but he didn't want to be having this conversation with him – or anyone for that matter. He knew he worked hard at maintaining his image, though he never took too kindly to remembering exactly how much work was involved. He laughed more heartily and said, "Sure, Ol. Appreciate it" abruptly, making himself look busy by eying the others in the Hall.

A sight of bright yellow caught Percy's attention, and he glanced across the room at the Ravenclaw table and watched Penelope and Adam huddled together, her blond hair bobbing with laughter.

A throat cleared. "Perce. Did you catch up with the twins?"

His attention still focused on Penny, he waved an arm at the question. "They're fine. I don't think they'll be coming after us again any time soon."

"How'd you do that?"

Pause.

"Perce? Earth to Percy. What- Oh."

Percy met Oliver's eyes again, saw the sympathetic look and knew he'd been caught staring at Penelope and Adam.

"Sorry. I, er- The twins. I told them that with the other houses teasing us, we'd rather have them on our side." _Not so much a lie, no._

Oliver gave another small smile. "Within reason, right?"

Percy nodded, finishing his tea.

"Excuse me. Think I'll just go over and make sure Penny'll be at the prefects lounge tonight. Then to the meeting. Meet me outside the Hall in ten minutes?" Percy said quickly, standing up and walking over towards Penelope and Adam.

On a subconscious level, it occurred to him that Oliver gave a sigh of relief when he left the table. But really, Percy had more important matters to attend than to pay attention to those which he imagined.

In a gesture far more romantic than any he ever made, Percy laid a hand on Penelope's shoulder, her blond hair in his grasp. He leaned in, kissing the back of her head and, when she jumped, whispered into her ear, "It's only me, Love. How are you making out?"

I just called Penelope _Love_, Percy realized, a red heat rushing to his face.

Penny looked up, her mouth already caught in mid-laughter that changed to a smile when she noticed him. Her eyes though, were quizzical, and he realized with a start that she also noticed unnatural behavior. _Way to go, Perce._

Thankfully, she always was a polite girl and, instead of calling him out in front of Adam, said: "Oh, Perce! Have a seat. Adam was just telling the funniest story! Remember the prefects' picnic last May? Well, there was this Quidditch game we didn't-"

"It wasn't as though we could have helped the switch!" Adam chimed in, laughing and sharing a knowing look with Penny. "And I'm telling you, I'll never be able to walk past the Gryffindor dormitory without-"

Penny, though gasps of laughter, held out her hand, fingers splayed, as she tried to gain control of the conversation. "We're not telling it right. I'll start again, Perce. We were at-"

"Percy wouldn't want to hear that again, Pen," Adam chuckled, reaching his hand over to pat her on the wrist. "Besides, all the prefects are here."

_Pen?_

His fingers remained clasped around her wrist. As though they were an old married couple that knew how to stop the other before they went too far, Percy thought bitterly, his eyes not leaving their hands. He fingered the badge on his robe.

A tight smile on his face, he cleared his throat and said importantly, "Is everyone ready for this mornings' meeting? I have some issues to be discussed."

Above the voices in the Great Hall, he heard: "Oh, _yes_. We know all about _your_ issues, Weasley" from the Slytherin table.

_Definitely not a prefect, no._

Pretending he hadn't heard a thing, he gave Penny another smile, squeezing her other (free) hand, then stood up and caught the eyes of the other prefects. Dave had only just stumbled in, looking as though he arose from a night beneath the cafeteria tables. Their eyes met, then Percy marched purposefully to the corridor just outside the Great Hall. _Finally. Familiar ground. _

He clapped his hands and motioned over his head for the prefects to gather close. "There's a lot to go over today. Everyone ready?"

He noticed Adam hanging by the door, his eyes trained only on Penelope. Percy made an effort not to look his way, instead going over the mental list he'd prepared for this moment.

As he suspected, the meeting went as planned and after he'd covered the hall patrols and student exceptions, he turned to Dave who was still tucking in a shirttail under his robe. "What about last night?"

He blinked sleepily back at him and hesitated before saying, "Wha- Oh, yeah. Well, I was meeting up with Hermione, checking up on her like I told you I would, and…"

As Dave launched into an explanation that seemed to be taken word-for-word from his letter last night, Percy looked over and saw Penelope and Adam exchange smiles and small waves. _Silly gestures, really,_ he thought. He couldn't remember ever acting in such a way except, perhaps, when they had first started dating- He shuddered and tried to bring his attention back to Dave, who had stopped talking long before Percy had thought to look his way. From behind, he heard a prefect whisper to another:

"I don't remember any other head boy giving authority to a third year."

"Well, he wasn't blinded by love now, was he?"

"Hey, if I was paired up with Wood, I wouldn't-"

Percy clapped his hands again and said, "Anything else?" He affixed his gaze purposely forward of him rather than the source of the whispers. "No? Ok, what time should we meet at the lounge tonight?"

A chorus of voices could be heard and some argument ensued, mostly concerning the fact that everyone was loaded with assignments and examinations. In fact, only two prefects other than Penny and Dave were available for the night, and, with a sigh, he agreed to work most of the night to cover all houses. _As is the bane of Head Boy_, he thought as he nodded in agreement, silently wondering how Oliver would take the news.

_Oliver…_

Penelope must have been thinking along the same lines as she immediately asked, "What about Plum's assignment? We can't just lose time because of our duties."

A knot formed in Percy's chest and he knew that he didn't have a choice in the matter: Adam would have to be there. "Of course not, _Pen_," he started. She raised her eyebrows at him. "-nelope."

"So, we bring them with us?" Dave asked, unable to keep the hope from his voice.

_Is Penelope this hopeful, too?_ No, no, she's practical, Percy breathed out and cleared his throat to cover a sigh. _My _beautiful, practical girlfriend. "I don't think we have much choice in the matter. Anything else?"

The prefects had already begun to dissipate, the crowd of students going into the Great Hall increasing with such force as to adjourn the meeting.

He yelled, "Dismissed. I'll see you all tonight, or tomorrow. Any problems-" But Percy was quickly cut off as a wave of first-years stormed by him, unknowingly dragging him several feet before he regained his own footing. The bottom of his robe was trampled on, the sound of fabric ripping the only thing he could hear above the voices.

"Stop that! No shoving! Keep- Oh, bother," he sighed, noticing no one was paying attention. And now he'd have yet another robe to repair along with the one he ruined at the pitch the night before. Looking over his shoulder, he saw the prefects hurrying to their respective classes, not watching him.

This was not a promising start to the day and Percy leaned against the wall to catch his breath. And his bearings. He'd need them, he knew, with advanced classes taking up most of the morning. At least Dave would be with him. And he'd see Oliver probably at lunch – no, he might join him in the library for once.

Yawning, he walked over to a nearby bench, sitting down to wait for the storm of students to pass (and also where he could wait for Oliver in relative safety.)

Closing his eyes, Percy's thoughts turned to his earlier discomfort around him. _It was rude, really,_ he scolded himself. But he disliked being reminded about how hard he worked to be _this _Percy Weasley, the role that takes so much effort to make him appear perfect without trying. Like everyone else was truly able to do, including Oliver. All he had to be was his friendly, jovial self. And with a successful future career as a Quidditch player, he would have his pick of women – er, men.

Percy rolled his head, loosening the muscles in his neck. He felt that similar twinge in his heart as he had earlier. _It doesn't make much sense, really. Why would I be jealous of Oliver's fame with women? Men? _

_Unless._ Unless Percy was afraid that Oliver's relationship with another man would ruin his own place in Oliver's life.

_Such a foolish thought_. It wasn't as though they were together and _certainly _not like that! That would be like Oliver being jealous of Penelope's place in his life, he reasoned.

Ridiculous!

But then, the seed planted, a part of Percy couldn't help but wonder if maybe, perhaps, Oliver did feel that way.

And why did that thought, the thought that Oliver was perhaps feeling left out and alone and _oh-so_ lonely, bothered him more than the fact he knew somewhere there was a gorgeous blond hanging off the Ravenclaw seeker's arm.

"Hey, Perce."

A hand waved in front of Percy's face and he batted it away, startled out of his thoughts.

"Geez, Ol. What did you do to him last night? He keeps staring off."

Percy turned around to notice that Dave had found Oliver who was carrying an armload of books.

"Some of those mind, Ol?"

"Guarded them with my life, Perce," Oliver said, his mood seemingly lifted as he handed over the majority of books. Wheezing with the heavy load, Percy set them on the ground in what he hoped was a casual manner.

Dave chose that moment to say:

"Carrying the books! Way to go! Wonder if Karen would mind lugging these around for me?"

Oliver rolled his eyes, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "I'll be sure to tell her that at next class. We're in Charms together."

"Oh, God. Please don't, Ol! _Anything_ but that!" In an over-dramatic gesture, Dave threw an arm over his forehead and sighed heavily.

"Anything?" Oliver questioned, catching Percy's eye before raising a threatening eyebrow at Dave.

"Of course, not _everything_. I leave that up to Perce, you know. I'm not wanting to get between you two."

"Thanks," Oliver said dryly, then turning his attention to Percy. Brown eyes ran over his body and a feeling of embarrassment came over him. Concerned eyes met his own.

"I saw the first-years get to you over there. You're all right?" His voice was casual, but his tone was a whisper, as though asking a secret.

Percy nodded, straightening out his robes. Best to keep going forward, he thought, saying aloud: "I'm going to ask Professor Flitwick about the charms used in the assignment. Dave and I have him second class."

"Karen and I have him first, I'll wait around for you guys afterwards."

"You have your assignment with you?"

"Yes, sir," Oliver said with a serious face, giving Percy a salute that he ignored.

"And we'll meet in the Library before lunch?"

"As you wish."

"I'll bring lunch to the Quidditch field afterwards?"

Oliver nodded, finally giving way to a smile as he turned to Dave and said, "Terribly demanding, ain't he?"

And without missing a beat, Dave said:

"That's why you love him so."

Giving a light laugh that sounded more like a sneeze interrupted by a hiccup, Oliver waved and walked away.

Percy felt a heat rise to his own cheeks and pointed his head down, trying (unsuccessfully) to keep the smile off his face. He shook his head lightly, letting out a soft chuckle and pursed his lips together. For what felt like the hundredth time since he'd awoken, he wondered what he'd done to deserve such great friends. He looked up, fully aware that his cheeks were still red, and-

To his horror, Dave was watching him. And _smiling_, as though he knew-

Knew what, Percy wondered, as he picked his books off the ground and headed towards first class.

--

**Next Time: Dave and Percy have a little talk. Oliver has a little talk with some Very Important People, but quickly wishes he didn't. The boys meet up again in the library. **


	6. 

Note: Thank you so much for all the patience you've allowed me with this series (really, I do appreciate that no flames/fireworks/army-launched missiles have been thrown my way, regarding either the quality of my 'non-British' writing or the tardiness of updates). Once again, please pardon my 'over-edits' and 'Canadian-isms' – I don't think there's much hope of either of them changing ;) If you have any suggestions or would like to reach me, the best way would be via my livejournal (username caraotd). My update schedule is in my user info here.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter & Co, nor do I claim to. Dave & Karen are mine. A huge 'thank you' to Nicole for the beta.

--

Chapter Six: Shut Out (2)

Walking with purpose, Percy's eyes kept forward, his brow furrowed in an attempt to concentrate only on his class destination. His reflexes kicked in, giving a slight nod to fellow students and also acknowledging the younger ones he tutored. But as Dave continued to purposely walk at his heels, treading on the base of his good, already-torn-this-morning robe, he was slowly losing his cool.

Growing up in a large family, Percy was well aware of the little _intended_ annoyances that were commonly directed his way (_thank you very much, Fred and George_, he thought wryly). Eastern breathing techniques, ancient chants, finding his 'quiet place' – at age seventeen, Percy had tried just about the lot. And yet, to everything there was a time and place, and the southwestern corridor on a Tuesday morning fell into neither category.

So with no other course of action, Percy abruptly stopped walking just outside of their classroom door. Dave crashed into him, textbooks flying over Percy and narrowly missing several first-years that passed by. Turning on his heel, Percy gave a disapproving sigh (the one he usually reserved for his brothers) and crossed his arms.

"Remind me, please. How old are you?"

"Shut it," Dave muttered, scrambling to save his textbooks from crushing footsteps. "What was that for, anyways?"

"Getting you off my heels. Here," Percy said, reaching a hand down. Dave batted him away, seated firm in the center of pandemonium, gathering up the loose papers that had fallen out of his textbooks and scattered about. At this site, a surge of regret ran through Percy and he knelt down to help him, ignoring the bumps and _Sorry!'s_ that were called down to them.

"So, how are things going between you and Oliver?"

Percy's head snapped up, halted in his task. His fingers tightened around the papers. "Good." _Did Oliver say something to him about me? _"Er- How's Karen?"

Dave shook his head but only to wave his blond hair away from his eyes, his smile bright and wistful. "She's great. Best schoolwork I've ever had." He took a heavy breath, clucking his tongue against his teeth. Percy's own nerves were now on edge, knowing Dave well enough to tell when his friend was easing his way into treacherous waters. _Cluck. Cluck. _"Tell me, Perce. How are things going with Penelope?"

And there it was. Percy ran a hand rigidly through his thick hair over and over, trying to control the surge of anger that suddenly raced through him. Like he needed to deal with _this. _Dave's silly prying into problems that just weren't there, only spoken of because he didn't have anything better to do. For once, Percy didn't have the patience or the want to deal with any of it. He was tired and hot, and he certainly didn't want to get into things with Dave at this hour of the morning!

He gathered his robe about him and rose with Dave's papers in hand. "What do you mean, 'how are things going?' We're great. Adam's a great guy."

Still sitting on the floor, Dave looked up at him questionably. "I didn't mean to imply--"

"There's no one else I'd rather see her set with. They're going to do well together, those two."

Dave scratched the back of his neck. "I'm happy to hear--"

Percy had taken off his glasses, cleaning the lenses on his sleeve. "We're not like other couples. She's quite happy to work hard for her marks. And so is Adam."

"I know," Dave said, finally getting to his feet. He dusted off his robe with one hand, balancing the recovered textbooks and papers in the other. "I'm his roommate, and he's always--"

But Percy was still talking, still cleaning his lenses. "Working for her marks. She's not at all like some Ravenclaws. Honestly! Karen never seems to--"

Percy stopped, realizing that he'd gone too far. Karen was one of his closest friends – _and Dave's breaking point_, he reminded himself too late.

As though on cue, Dave's eyes grew small, his tone lowered. He pointed a finger at Percy. "Karen is a _Ravenclaw_. She's a good student, and a great friend. To _everyone_." Percy winced. "And I'm happy with her. I _love _her. It's not like we're together for popularity reasons or just for the convenience of being with someone, like you and Pennel--"__

Dave stopped, his face suddenly filled with guilt. After a moment of stunned silence, he cleared his throat and gestured towards the doorway. "After you."

Percy was numbed. _Did he just-- No, I had to have heard wrong. _But knowing all too well what had just occurred, the redhead could only manage a slight nod at his friend before walking by.

--

_Can't be late. Won't be late. Push it Wood!_

Shoes pounding cobblestone, Oliver pushed through the barrage of students, all of whom were much smaller and thus, more susceptible to injury from the brute Scot. He took little notice of them scurrying out of his proximity, his thoughts firmly focused on trying to _not think _about the assignment. Because, as he kept repeating to himself: _It's not a crush. It's not love. Everything involves these stupid charms, for a silly assignment set up by an egotistic professor who's bent on playing Merlin._

Wasn't it?

Breathing hard, Oliver leaned against the doorframe, gazing into the empty classroom with wonder. He'd never arrived for a class early before, at least never alone. Pulling himself together, he walked through the aisles and tried to pick a seat, something he rarely had the option of doing. Oliver was having a Percy moment, indeed.

Choosing a back corner desk, he set his books under the seat and rested his head upon the desk, his cheek pressed hard against the wood. Oliver had always prided himself on being in tune with his feelings (_Exhibit A: My coming out at age 15_, he thought wryly), and he didn't need a second opinion to know this assignment, everything that was coming out of it, was weighing on him. He also knew that if he didn't cool down and focus on everything else in his life (_Hello? Remember Quidditch?_), this could affect his mental fitness for tomorrow's game.

He shuddered at the thought.

"Mint?"

Oliver jerked at the sudden voice that was accompanied with a sharp poke between his shoulders.

"Karen?" He said cautiously, sitting up and turning to his side.

Of course. Who else?

Glasses perched on the tip of her nose, Karen looked over the frame with eyes full of concern, seemingly larger than normal, Oliver supposed, due to her cheeks that were sucked in on a candy. Giving her a small smile, he used his index finger to slide her glasses gently into place.

"I have some muggle candy in my backpack, if things get really bad," she said knowingly, pointing to her knapsack on the floor. "You don't look so hot."

_No kidding, _Oliver sighed. "Are you anticipating a bad day or something? The chocolate stash, I mean."

She shrugged. "No. Just life. Stuff. Nothing really, I suppose, when compared to what you and Perce are going through."

He jolted at her words. "What do you mean?"

"This whole thing must be hard. Right?" Karen peered at him over her glasses, causing them to slide down her nose again. "Like with the Slytherins yesterday."

Oliver relaxed, shrugging his shoulders before settling back into his seat and turning away from her. Her voice had been sympathetic but her eyes remained fierce, as though she would take on the entire Slytherin house in defense of her friends. _Which she probably would_, Oliver thought, but saying instead: "So far, we've been lucky to avoid the Slytherins. It's mostly Fred and George right now."

She clucked her tongue thoughtfully in a gesture that reminded Oliver of Dave. "You two are on your own with them."

"Chicken," Oliver joked.

Karen reached into her bag for a box of small candied chocolates, spreading the contents onto her desk. Oliver scooped a couple off the desk, their hands brushing in the comfortable way of two friends that have confidence in their friendship, nothing less. _Like Perce and I. Only not_, he realized, remembering some of the awkward moments of their evening together. _Is it all because of the charms- Yes, it has to be!_

"Mr. Wood!"

Oliver's head snapped towards the doorway, a candy catching in his throat. He coughed a couple times, trying to regain his composure as Professor McGonagall watched him from the doorway. The classroom remained empty save for them, students still filing outside the doorway. Even Flitwick was nowhere to be seen (and it occurred to Oliver, distantly, that if Percy or Dave had been present, he would have made a smart comment about looking on the other side of the desk for him).

_But now isn't the time for smart remarks, is it Captain?_

"If you're all right, Wood," McGonagall pursed her lips together, creating what Oliver hoped was a bemused expression. "Follow me, please. Take your books. Oh, and if Miss George has something with the name Cadbury on it, I wouldn't object." Half-turned, she gave him a pointed look before walking away.

Oliver began to pile his books onto the desk, his heart beating hard. _What does she want? What did I do now? Quidditch? Or—_

Karen placed a chocolate bar over his textbook pile, slipping his assignment from a folder and placing it with her own. Before he left, he cast her a hesitant look but she spoke first:

"Good luck, Ol." Her forehead creased with worry, she wouldn't meet his eyes.

--

After first class, Percy and Dave walked to Honors Charms in silence, going through all the outward motions of friendship. Inside Percy was a torrent of questions – the primary one being: _What happened?_ He rarely fought with his two best friends, their friendship based on teasing, mock arguments and other jests that were played off each other's own quirks. And yet he couldn't bring himself to speak to Dave. No, all he wanted to do was find Oliver and a hot cup of something, and try to sort out what was said because Percy (he himself reasoned) must have blacked out at some point. He couldn't think through the mess of memory, recall clearly what was said or the emotion behind it. But Oliver would know what happened, even with Percy's high-pitched, inarticulate and somewhat self-bias explanation. After all, he always did.

But Oliver wasn't around, and Percy had to face that - no, he hadn't blacked out, hadn't succumbed to a Slytherin plot, hadn't been taken over by an alien life form. _And none of those reasons are foolish enough to keep up this silence._ As the previous students filed out of Professor Flitwick's class, Percy touched Dave's sleeve, holding tight in a desperate plea for attention.

Dave turned around, his eyes softening with realization, and regret.

Percy rushed to speak first, hands gesturing wildly: "I'm sorry, Dave. I never meant to--"

"No, Perce. It's all my fault, I just wasn't thinking and--"

"Please," Percy breathed out heavily. "Can we just forget everything?"

Dave smiled, shrugging his shoulders in a sign of surrender. "Already forgotten."

"What's forgotten?"

_Karen! _

Percy turned quickly at the sound of her voice, watching her lean into Dave and kiss his cheek. She turned to him and repeated, "What's forgotten? Is something the matter?"

"Of course not," Dave gave a short laugh, ruffling her hair. Giving him a tight smile, she stepped lightly on his foot.

"Just, you know," Percy shrugged. "Guy stuff." She gave him a look of disbelief and he felt his face redden. _Sure Weasley, she'll take that answer._ He looked passed her, trying to cover his lame excuse with a search for Oliver. However, noticing the empty room save for Flitwick at his desk, he quickly asked: "Did we miss Ol?"

"Kind of," she started, her hands fidgeting together. Dave shifted his textbooks to his right hand, reached out with his free hand to cover her hands. She let out a heavy sigh, continuing: "McGonagall got to him right before class, told him to take his books. And he hasn't been back."

Percy stared at her thoughtfully, rocking on the back of his heels. _Why would she need Oliver? Is it – is it about me? About this assignment? Have I done something wrong? Maybe--_

"Some Quidditch thing?" Dave supplied as though reading his mind and trying to pacify him. "Maybe for the game tomorrow? Can't be trouble if it didn't involve me, too."

"I'd imagine its Quidditch. McGonagall's right into that sort of thing," Karen chimed in hopefully. Percy managed a tight small smile as he thought: _Nice try, guys. _Perhaps Karen had detected his pending questions, as she looked pointedly at Dave and added quickly: "Er- You have time to walk me to next class?"

"Always," he answered fast and with a bright smile, as though trying to quell his worried expression.

As they swiftly walked away, Percy stepped into the classroom and set his books on a desk up front, casting a small smile in Flitwick's direction as he sat down. He set his glasses on the desk, leaning back in the chair and looking up at the (blurry) ceiling. "What's going on here?" he muttered.

"Problem, Mr. Weasley?"

Percy sat up quickly. "No, sir! Er--" He looked around the classroom (then repeated the action after remembering to put his glasses back on) and, once assured of their privacy, he leaned forward in his desk. "Sir? I suppose you've heard about Professor Plum's assignment?"

Flitwick flashed him a smile. "Of course, Mr. Weasley. And might I say that he's told me you and Mr. Wood are doing a great job."

"Really?" The scholar had taken over Percy's body. Smiling brightly, he tilted his head to the side, crossing his feet under his seat and arching his back higher. His toes wiggled in his shoes. A quick, _orgasmic _flush of pride ran through him, tingling his fingers and sending a glow of warmth through his insides. _Wait until I tell Oliver that we're--  
_

_Oliver! Focus Percy!_

"Er-- Professor? Actually, I wanted to ask you about the charms themselves," Percy took a long breath. "What is the basis for these charms? Why weren't you asked to perform the charms? Are there any side effects? What might happen if--?"

The smaller wizard clasped his hands together, looking at Percy mischievously over the desk. _If Oliver were here, he'd make a smart comment about the booster seat he uses. He always did, at least back when we shared the same Charms class. _"Mr. Weasley – Percy. I can assure you that Professor Plum is fully qualified to see the charms-- Oh, look who just walked by. Excuse me. I just want to have a little chat with… yes…" Jumping off his chair (_and quite a dismount it was_, Percy noted), Flitwick walked (_no, ran_) into the hallway.

Percy's previous academic glow now dampened with his professor's reluctance to answer his questions, he allowed his head to fall to the desk, hitting the surface with a slight _smack_!

--

Oliver's gaze darted back and forth, from the aging phoenix on its pedestal to the mess on Dumbledore's desk. He'd never been to the headmaster's office without a friend, whether it be the Quidditch team for a congratulatory handshake or with Dave after getting into a mess of trouble. He smiled, briefly remembering a time in fifth year when Percy was called to escort them back to their dormitory when a fistfight broke out after the final game. He never thought Percy would live it down.

_Actually, I never thought he'd stop lecturing. _Oliver looked up from the desk, his eyes meeting a small, wizard clock. Five more minutes of sitting in the hardest chair _ever_, would cause him to miss seeing his friends after Charms, as well as the start to his next class.

"Mr. Wood! Ah, I'm sorry to keep you waiting." Oliver turned his head in time to see the headmaster swoop into his office, followed closely by McGonagall and Plum. Plum gave him a large wave, almost skipping into the headmaster before McGonagall caught his elbow.

Oliver tried to turn his grimace into a grin for the headmaster. _Honestly, I don't know how Perce stands being around these professors all the time!_

The headmaster wiggled into his seat, raising his eyebrows at McGonagall and then Plum, who had crossed his arms with a satisfied look about him.

"Oliver," the headmaster's voice was quiet, "How might your assignment be going for Professor Plum? Hmmm? Any complaints? No one's turning green? No unexpected warts?" The headmaster, a slight smirk on his face, held out a dish of lemon drops.

Oliver waved at them, shaking his head slightly. "Percy and I are doing all right. Nothing has really changed that much."

"No?" Professor McGonagall asked with a slightly hopeful tone to her voice.

"Well - only he's been to my practice, and I'll be going with him to his duties tonight."

"Yes, yes. I've heard about that," the headmaster nodded. _How did he-- _"Mr. Wood—Oliver, I'll get right to the point as I'm sure you're eager to find out what you're doing here. You _have _noticed some changes with the charms, yes?"

_Oh please, plu-ease, don't speak of crushes or feelings or potentially lewd thoughts about boy sex-- _"Er. I'm not sure what you mean, Headmaster."

"Nothing unusual happened during the ceremony?" Dumbledore peered to him over his spectacles. From behind, Plum wiggle his eyebrows at him.

_Oh Merlin help me. _"Oh- yes. There was fog. Some lights." Oliver stopped as Plum turned pink, turning his gaze to the ceiling with a tight smile as though trying (unsuccessfully) to conceal his joy. "Is… Is something wrong, sir?"

"I suppose that would depend on your position, Mr. Wood. You see, it's been brought to my attention that there might have been some problem with the charm." Professor Plum cleared his throat, but Dumbledore held up an index finger to keep him from interrupting. "Or perhaps, no problem at all. Which, as you understand well Oliver, can be just as bad."

Oliver gulped, his gaze momentarily shifting to the empty chair beside him. He desperately wanted Percy to be with him – because he wouldn't say something foolish or ask the obvious question, instead seemingly able to _translate _professor-speak But Oliver was alone and so he tightened his lips together, determined to keep silent.

Receiving no comment, the headmaster continued. "You know, Oliver, there was a time when only wizards married into wizard families. Even as early as one hundred years ago, marrying a muggle often meant your wand was broken and you were banished from our world.

Oliver nodded. He'd heard the stories but then again, who hadn't?

"Wise wizards soon found reason and, all that is, as they say, history. But when two worlds so different come together, they tend to adapt some practices. Almost everything is affected. For instance, the muggle love of law and order quickly found its place among wizard bonds."

Dumbledore paused, looking at Oliver as though waiting for a response. But the Scot still sat tightlipped, waiting to see where the headmaster was going. "Married wizards now have legal rights intertwined with magic – oh, you know, taxes, community property and all that sort of thing." He waved his hand, then added hesitantly: "And -- er, divorce."

_Merlin-Merlin-Merlin. _Oliver cleared his throat quietly. "Sir? I don't mean any disrespect but- I don't really see where you're going with this. Divorce? The bonding for class," he jerked a thumb in Plum's direction. "That wasn't real. And now – you're speaking about divorce?" This couldn't be right, Oliver couldn't be hearing all that was being said. _Merlin! Divorce? What is this – Merlin! Dave will never let us forget this one!_

"Wood," McGonagall said quietly from behind Dumbledore. "Perhaps I can clarify what the headmaster is saying. There seems to have been some mistake. It would seem that you and Mr. Weasley – Percy, are bonded together. Regardless of your feelings – or lack of feelings, you two are legally married."

Oliver's heart was beating fast, loudly. He knew he was a mess of nerves just from the wait alone and it took all his energy not to run from the room or break out into laughter or perhaps find a nice broom to fly away on -- Everything was sounding like gibberish. After looking incredulously at each professor, he rose from his seat, his hands facing palms up. "I'm sorry, I still don't see how it's possible that--"

"Oliver," McGonagall said more firmly, walking towards him and placing two hands on his shoulders, "You and Percy must get a legal divorce."

_Well, you can't get any clearer than that now, can you?_

Unsure what to say, he managed an "Oh" before sitting back down. This was unexpected, something in his brain registered, but it wasn't so bad, no. Actually this was good news – great news, even, when he recalled all the horrible thoughts and worries that had passed through his mind as he awaited the meeting. He'd expected a reprimand for something he'd done (or forgot to do), something that could have led to expulsion or worse, a Quidditch-related punishment.

Despite the cold sweat that had enveloped Oliver, it was all he could do to restrain a laugh. So he would have to get a divorce from Percy? _So what? _It was, as his grandfather use to say, "nothin' on a big ship."

"Ok," Oliver started, shrugging. He was speaking low, talking aloud to himself. "So we're married? Big deal. It's like you say, Headmaster. Divorces are common place nowadays."

"That is true, yes," the headmaster spoke calmly. Rising, he shuffled to the front of his desk. "Oliver. There is a bit more to this. Do you need a moment or--"

"There's more?" _You've got to be kidding. _Oliver looked at the empty seat beside him. _Why isn't Percy here to hear this?_

The headmaster looked grave. "You and Mr. Weasley are very young. You're good friends, and that's good news for the stability of our world. But the marriage was performed under amateur charms," Plum coughed, "and impure reasoning, and no unstable bond can be broken easily. I'm afraid until we can determine a safe way for you to divorce, you must remain married."

Oliver couldn't hold back the loud, awkward chuckle that escaped. "Him!" he exclaimed, realizing that he shouldn't be pointing accusingly at Plum but not caring. "These aren't full charms. And-and he doesn't have that kind of power!" _Let this be some kind of joke, a prank. Dumbledore wouldn't have allowed--_

With a sheepish grin, Professor Plum shrugged his shoulders dramatically and held his hands high in a gesture of surrender. "Who would have guessed? I mean, the chances--"

"Who else?" Oliver demanded, still not caring that he was yelling in front of his headmaster and head-of-house. _This isn't real. What will Percy think? _"How many other people have you put through this?"

"No one," Plum said easily, folding his hands behind his back. "It would seem that you and Percy are the extent of my power. Mr. Wood, if you would please calm down, I'll explain everything to you--"

"There's other matters, Mr. Wood," McGonagall broke in. She took a deep breath, taking a moment to allow the office to dissolve into silence until only the _coos _of the phoenix could be heard. "It would seem that, as with all marriages, yours and Mr. Weasley's will be made public knowledge. Tomorrow morning the registry will be updated to include you both."

And that was the chink in the armor, the reason why McGonagall looked so tense, the reason why Percy hadn't joined them, the news that put everything into perspective for Oliver. Images of lying on the locker room floor, trying to summon the energy to ignore the painful fights and teases after matches, solely due to being the only gay student playing Quidditch. It wasn't that gay couples were uncommon in the wizarding world, as there were quite a few gay students at Hogwarts that never encountered hostilities. However, there were some boys that would always find _something, someone _to bully for no particular reason, and now Percy would be one of those being bullied. For Oliver's choice.

"Can't you chance a divorce? I mean, we're only seventeen. We don't want to be married! And not to each other," Oliver's voice cracked.

"The ministry can't chance it," Plum spoke up, moving to stand beside Dumbledore. McGonagall made a face. "And you see, it would also annul your assignment. There are a lot of people watching this assignment, Mr. Wood. And if you and Percy divorce before Monday, the charms are set in such a manner that I'll be forced to fail you both."

Oliver rolled his eyes, speaking more forcefully, "I don't care about failing! If you can't break this marriage, if people find out that-- Why is this even possible? How was this even allowed?"

"Mr. Wood," Dumbledore broke in gently. "It would seem that Professor Plum's parents performed binding ceremonies. Now, I visited the Minister of Magic himself last night, and after much consultation with people who know far more about this field than I, we determined there is no way to break this marriage quickly, or keep things out of public knowledge. Therefore--"

"The good news," Plum interrupted, folding his hands and pacing, ignoring the sharp gaze of McGonagall, "is that you two already work well together. You're good friends, and there shouldn't be any adverse affects to your bond together. As long as nothing endangers your friendship, the bond is stable and good for our world."

"Good for you--"Oliver sputtered, his leg accidentally hitting the leg of his chair. It scattered backwards, falling with a loud _bang_. "_Your _world. You-you're the reason that Percy, that now-- And you didn't tell us sooner and-- We're only students, and you--"

Oliver knew he wasn't making much sense – hell, he wasn't making much sense to _Oliver_ right now, but when he shut his mouth all he could think was: _I don't want to be here I don't want to hear this and what am I suppose to say because Percy's the smart one and Percy would know how to handle this and why are their lips still moving_

"Why me?" he broke into their words, not paying attention to what they were saying. "Why aren't you telling this to Percy yourselves?"

There was a long pause before McGonagall cleared her throat. "As you know, Oliver, Mr. Weasley is currently involved with Miss Clearwater. To find out – well," McGonagall stopped, her lips twitching, "To find out that he is married to a young man at age seventeen, he just might—well, we thought it better that you break the news to him."

Oliver waved her words away, nodding. That was the answer he'd been expecting. Percy worked well under school-related pressures, but something like this would send his whole world crumbling. Oliver thought to their conversation the night before. Percy was the perfect prefect and a great friend, even with his imperfections. He tried his best everyday and even when the world knocked him down, he still gave it his all. And after all that effort, to become the person he'd grown to be and with such a promising future ahead – there was this complication.

"You will be able to break the bond, Headmaster?" Oliver asked quietly.

"Yes. Eventually," Dumbledore answered, peering over his glasses at Plum.

Oliver walked away from the desk and the now silent professors, leaning against the frosted glass and looking outside, seeing nothing. _It really is just a complication_. No one was sick or dying. He hadn't failed the assignment with Percy, and he wasn't being kicked off the Quidditch team. Actually, all that Plum did was complicate their lives a little more. So they were married? So they wouldn't be able to marry another until this whole divorce thing went through? They were seventeen, that wasn't about to happen anytime soon. They'd have to check off the 'Married' box on forms for a bit. Their families would get a laugh and then forget, this 'bonding' shoved aside for the life's _normal _problems.

But Oliver knew things weren't that simple. If they were, he'd sit back with his friends and joke about the situation over a butterbeer. And that's what he wanted to do, to laugh, to shrug his shoulders and take the news with the same 'Bugger-all-it'll-be-better-next-time' attitude he had after losing a match. But this wasn't a Quidditch game, and knowing how much marriage – this situation, would hurt Percy, he couldn't help the twinge in his heart. _If only there was some way this couldn't be made public, some way to spare him… _He felt awful, powerless to control the circumstances and though he knew the bonding ceremony wasn't his fault, everything negative associated with this assignment (_this damned assignment!_) was linked with those three little words he'd dared to say years before: I am gay.

_Percy will be so disappointed in me._

Oliver was angry. He was angry enough to regret ever getting sorted into Gryffindor, ever meeting Percy Weasley and ever taking Plum's _stupid_ course. Because if none of that happened, then he wouldn't have woken up feeling – _something_. The _something_, Oliver knew now, that must have been part of the 'amateur' charm performed under 'impure reasoning.' _It must have. But if I'm feeling this way from the charms, then—what does that mean for Percy? Is there something more to this?_

"Well," he said aloud, surprised at the rough sound of his voice. He continued to look out the window at nothing. "Isn't this just the shit?"

"Indeed," McGonagall muttered behind him.

--

After the last morning class, Percy bid a short goodbye to Dave and left for the kitchens, collecting two luncheon sandwiches and a thermos of tea. His professors had avoided speaking to him, suddenly finding themselves otherwise engaged in conversations or work far away from him. His efforts unsuccessful, Percy took a long walk through the school, walking past Dumbledore's office and then a large bay window that overlooked the Quidditch Pitch, all in an attempt to see what happened to Oliver. When he couldn't be found, Percy resigned himself to the library.

His first-year charge was already waiting, potions texts and previous exam sheets scattered over the table. Percy gave her a small smile, setting out his own parchment and quill as he surveyed the library. Despite the heavy coursework assigned this week, the library itself was only half-filled, most tending to wait until the last moment to finish their work.

_Like Oliver_. _And his Charms assignment. Oh, I hope he's done all right—No, no, wait Percy. It's not your assignment. _That'd always been the hardest part of tutoring for him. It took all his energy not to reach out and grab the assignment from students, and finish it himself. He just couldn't bear to see an assignment, any assignment, get a bad grade. Even Plum's strange assignment.

"I could add seventeen drops of newt eye extract, that would do it! Right?"

With a quick glance to her work, Percy stifled a sigh. "Sure. If what you wanted to do was completely remove Professor Snape's hair."

The little girl's eyes widened with horror and then laughter as she realized the joke. They chuckled together quietly, Percy putting a finger to his lips to keep some discretion. This was a library, after all.

Feeling eyes on him, Percy looked over the little girl's shoulder. Pale-faced, Oliver was leaning against the library's doorframe. His arms were folded, textbooks placed on the ground, and he was looking thoughtfully at Percy.

_Finally! _Percy waved him over, watching with growing trepidation as Oliver shook his head slowly as though to bring himself out of a trance, then walk to the table unblinking. _What has been going on?_

"Er- Oliver. You know Susan here. She's Jack's little sister."

Oliver jumped, as though only noticing the little girl. "Ah yes. Your brother was on the Quidditch team in his last two years here. He's a great guy." In his typical friendly fashion, he offered his hand to the little girl who, please at the compliment about her brother, shook it heavily.

Percy tried not to chuckle at the sight. Oliver had the ability to charm anyone at any age, to become immediately personable and friendly, and identify immediately. _Especially with kids, _Percy realized. He had noticed that through the years, as outgoing, fun Dave suddenly grew insecure and nervous around children, Oliver would never shy away. _Penelope's like that too_, Percy reminded himself, still watching the light banter between Susan and Oliver. That quality was important to him – _not that I want kids_, Percy thought quickly. But comfort around people, including children, was something he looked for in a partner.

_And friend_.

"Why is he looking at us funny?"

Percy blinked, realizing the little girl was waving her hand in front of his face.

"Not sure. Hmmm," Oliver said jokingly. Some color had returned to his cheeks. "He was always a little off, if you get my drift, Susan."

"Real cute," Percy huffed, trying to hide his smile. "Susan, why don't you try writing all the rudimentary properties of a basic potion from memory? I just need to have a quick chat with Oliver over here."

As Susan opened a fresh roll of parchment, Percy took Oliver's elbow and led him to a table against a corner wall. He held part of his robe in his hand, making it into a fist. "What's going on, Ol?"

Oliver easily shook off the grip (not that there was ever doubt in Percy's mind he could do this), and then moved to straighten out his robes, adjusting his collar with both hands. "What do you mean? Nothing's going on."

_Right. It's going to be like that now, is it? _"Karen said McGonagall called you out of class."

Oliver gave an exaggerated shrug, almost clipping Percy's chin with his shoulder. "Some Quidditch thing. You know how it is: Win-win-win, and all that."

"All that? Oliver," Percy paused, trying to catch his roommate's gaze. He felt Oliver's warm breath on his face. "You'd tell me if something was wrong?"

"Really, I would, Perce. Shouldn't you--"

"You'd let me know if you were in trouble, right? If you needed help? You're not being threatened by the Slytherins again, are you?"

Oliver gave a loud, short laugh, ignoring the piercing stare of Madame Pinch at the entrance. "Look, I don't need protecting. If anyone of the two of us needs protecting, it certainly isn't--"

"I get it, Ol," Percy interrupted, backing up. _Shut out. It's the theme of the day, _he thought bitterly.

Without looking over his shoulder, Percy sat next to Susan, trying to push Oliver's words away. Though true (he willingly acknowledged), Oliver's words stung, and he couldn't help but feel he had said something terribly wrong. And what was more troubling to Percy was that he didn't know how to fix this mess. _Weasley, you're batting two for two so far. _

With stubborn resolve, Percy tutored Susan for thirty more minutes. Finally assured that she possessed enough knowledge to satisfy Professor Snape, she packed her books and went away, muttering a quick 'Thank you!"

Over the course of his tutoring, the library emptied except for a few students. Percy looked around for Oliver, surprised to find him only two desks away, head lying on arms that stretched out the length of the desk, and – snoring lightly.

Percy couldn't help but smile at the sight, forgetting his anger entirely. He'd only seen Oliver look as tired after a long (and lost) Quidditch match or occasionally during exams, though he hadn't looked quite as peaceful as he did now.

Someone left a nearby window open and Oliver's brown hair blew in the sharp breeze, spiking the ends. _Must be freezing. _Percy gathered his textbooks together and walked slowly towards him. Quietly, he took the seat next to Oliver, turning sideways so that his knees pushed gently into Oliver's thigh. He reached fingers out to grasp his shoulder, the cold fabric feeling crisp against his skin.

"Oliver?" Percy whispered, shaking him briefly. "You've got a practice in ten minutes, Ol." With a firmer grip, he shook his shoulder again. No answer.

Oliver was normally easy to wakeup but - evidently - their conversation the night before and this (_damn!_) assignment seemed to have taken even that effort from him. _Or perhaps he's tired from whatever McGonagall wanted-- And he hopes to win that game tomorrow?_ Percy moved his hand to Oliver's back, pushing against his upper spine gently for some response. (_The muscles!_ thought Percy, feeling a sudden sense of inadequacy at his own fitness). But as hard as he pressed, Oliver still didn't move, his snores remaining even.

Percy checked the library clock. If they didn't hurry to the field, they wouldn't have time for his sandwiches. Without thinking, he ran a hand hurriedly through Oliver's hair, his fingers curling in the feathered layers. _It's- soft! And it looks so much better than my own when it's messed. _Percy pursed his lips together, lost in thought, his fingers still tangled in Oliver's hair. It didn't make any sense, really. Gay couples weren't uncommon in his acquaintance, Hogwarts certainly no exception. Why was Oliver Wood, Captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, all-around great guy, still single? And to Percy's knowledge, having never been with a steady boyfriend.

"Perce?"

It wasn't until Oliver's brown eyes blinked up at Percy that he was snapped out thought, his embarrassing position immediately realized: crammed into Oliver, his hand in his hair, and staring. Caught, he was frozen in place, unable to move away and give a casual excuse. _What excuse, Genius? Geez, Ol, I'm sorry that I was trying to molest you in the library. You understand, right? Because I sure don't._

Slowly, Oliver sat up and pried Percy's fingers from his hair. He gently took his hand into both of his, holding firm. Percy knew that his fingers were just as cold as Oliver and for a brief moment, he thought (_foolishly!_) that Oliver was going to blow on them to gently warm him.

_Where did that thought come from? _Percy watched in horror as Oliver awkwardly dropped his hands and they painfully hit the table with a _thud! Lack of sugar, definitely need to eat something! Why can't I move?_

In Scottish tongue still thick with sleep, Oliver said quickly, "It's all right, Perce. Er- I'm awake. Thanks."

Percy jerked his hand away, standing abruptly. "Right. Er- Quidditch!" he blurted out, his tone too loud for the library. Distantly, he heard a strict 'SHHH.'

Oliver looked up sharply yet still blinking the sleep from his eyes. "Right! Quidditch! Practice! And er- lunch!"

Wide-eyed and unable to hide shock at his actions, Percy pointed to the brown bags he'd left beside his textbooks. His hands still tingled from hitting the table hard.

Oliver clapped his back, more forceful than usual. "Oh. Good. That's great. Excellent! You have done very well," he said lamely, giving a bright, false smile.

_He looks like he wants to die._ Percy groaned inwardly, gathering his textbooks and following Oliver out the library door.

_I can't seem to catch a break today. What just happened here?_

--

**TBC: Where things go Very Well and then Very Badly as Oliver and Percy attend Quidditch practice (again!) and Plum's class.**


	7. 

Notes: Thank you so much for the reviews – they are _still _so lovely and nice to receive. Also, I can't stuff enough cupcakes into Nicole (georgeandfredweasley), whom I've met through this website and this story, and who offers a speedy beta and infinite encouragement.

Disclaimers: See previous chapters.

--

Chapter Seven: Only the Lonely

--

Though the sun was high and strong, a frosty wind hit Oliver as he left Hogwarts and raced to the Quidditch pitch. He didn't mind the sharp cold, knowing he'd soon be outfitted and flying, the air coming as relief rather than discomfort. For this Keeper, winter days made the best practice times.

As he sped to the pitch, a part of Oliver knew the cold also served as distraction. He'd much rather think about numb fingers right now, certainly not a night of tea and cocoa and friendship, or a morning of meetings with impossible-to-deal-with professors. And he especially didn't want to think about the parting words of Professor Plum, so pleased that his school project revealed his hidden magical abilities: "I do think it best for you to tell Mr. Weasley yourself. You _will _take that responsibility? Right, Mr. Wood?"

If Dumbledore hadn't been standing right there… 

And then to fall asleep in the library and find Percy gazing down at him, nose almost to cheek, knees pressing into his own. And cold fingers moving through his hair…

Oliver paused at the entrance, looking over his shoulder to see Percy running behind him, down the hill. He watched with detached interest as his roommate tripped over his feet and rolled, soon regaining his footing almost as fast as he went down, red hair flinging wildly in the breeze. This was nothing new, it happened a lot; yet it didn't stop Oliver from calling out:

"You all right?"

Percy continued to run until he was in front of him, breathing heavily and holding up a hand to indicate he'd need a moment to catch his breath. "All" (breathe) "right." He didn't look at Oliver, instead focusing on the staircase to the Gryffindor stands. "Do you want to eat now or later?"

Oliver felt queasy at Percy's discomfort. _Does he know about the charms? Was that why he was poking at me like some sort of science experiment? _"We still have a few minutes before the rest of the team gets here. Er-- what kind of lunch did you get?"

He reached out for the bag but Percy slapped him away, a bemused smile finally breaking the tension, and he started up the stairs with Oliver close behind. As Percy's robe flapped back and the familiar scent of –well, of _library_, washed over him, he tried to gain a level perspective. _He's a reasonable guy. He knows mistakes happen. And it's not like he has to sleep with me or anything._

Hand on railing, Oliver hesitated at that thought. _Maybe I should have went straight for the pitch-- _

"I'm starting without you," an impatient voice said from high above. "I've got sandwiches, in case that will make you move any faster."

Oliver raced the rest of the stairs, appearing at the top to find Percy (still breathless), sprawled out on the benches, textbooks scattered on the ground. And a half a sandwich gripped in both hands.

"The other bag," he said, just before taking a large bite.

Oliver sat down, digging into the second brown bag for his own sandwich (_rye thick with turkey_, he noted silently and with delight) and leaned back, starring at the blue sky. All he could hear was the wind and Percy chewing quietly, and without looking Oliver knew he too was looking upwards. It occurred to him that this type of comfortable silence wasn't one he could enjoy with Dave; the witty Ravenclaw never settled down around him, always looking for some form of conversation or entertainment (usually in the form of mischief). But things were different with Percy, and Oliver appreciated the comfort in his friendship that even extended to sitting quietly on this Quidditch pitch, forgetting all the expectations and pretense that came with being Oliver Wood.

_But will it be enough? Will our friendship survive this? Or will he turn resentful? Merlin, if only I could know how he would react. Or how everyone else would!_

Oliver jumped as warmth touched his fingers, and looked over to see Percy holding a paper cup to his hand. "You have to drink something. Er-- I suppose I should have brought you water but--"

"Tea's fine," Oliver nodded, taking the cup. "There's water in the locker room. Er-- Could I ask you something?"

Percy blinked at him, picking up his half-a-sandwich once more. "Of course."

He took a deep breath. _Here goes nothing. _"You –um- could I have a cookie?"

_Chicken._

That earned him a bright cocky smile, revealing white teeth. "And whatever gave you the impression I brought cookies, Mr. Wood?"

Oliver matched his expression. Teasing was a welcome relief to the tension. "As your esteemed brothers pointed out this morning, it's Captain Wood to you, Head Boy Weasley. And you don't eat lunch without something sweet. Usually a cookie," he added in for good measure, his eyes now scanning the area around them.

"Actually, if my brothers' were to pick a name for me to call you, I doubt it would be as formal," Percy muttered, taking a small bag of cookies out of his robe.

"Exactly!" Oliver chuckled, grateful for the lifted mood (and of course, the cookie). "Like _The Keeper of my Heart_."

Percy snorted. "_The Quaffle of my Eye_. I've heard some of the younger years calling you that at the last game." He sighed, then shifted his gaze towards the remains of his sandwich crusts. He began to munch on them thoughtfully. "Are you going to tell me the truth about your visit with McGonagall?"

Oliver paused, using that time to take another bit of his cookie. The sun clouded over, the wind suddenly growing bitter. After a moment of uncomfortable silence, he found the courage to say, "Yes. It's just – I just can't right now, Perce. It's something that I need to think through. You'll be the first person I tell, really. It's just--"

He felt a land lay on his shoulder. "All right." Pause. It occurred to Oliver that this form of trust, of allowing him to keep such an _obviously _important secret quiet from his best friend, was a gesture Percy Weasley rarely made. He continued: "I trust you, Ol, I do. But-- well, it's something to do with the assignment, right? The charms?"

Oliver dropped the rest of his cookie. "Charms? Assignment?" Nervous laugh, casual-like shrug of the shoulders. "Now that you mention it, I've been meaning to ask--"

A throat cleared, and both boys looked up to see Fred and George in front of them, hovering on their brooms. "I told you we'd find them here, Fred."

The other twin smirked, "In their little love nest."

"And with a picnic! Now, that _is_ romantic!"

In a stage whisper, Percy leaned closer to Oliver and said, "We can probably take both of them, Ol. I'll go for Fred, he'll try to distract with wordplay. George hits harder, you take him." Ignoring his brothers, he handed Oliver another cookie.

Mouth full once more, Captain Wood played along, using his stern drill voice: "Not until after the game, Perce. Then you can hex them all you like."

Percy gave a heavy sigh. "If I must."

Oliver looked sideways to his roommate, both exchanging wry smiles. He always liked this side of Percy, the one that didn't allow his brothers to get the upper hand. Stomach full of turkey and cookies, and now warmed with tea, Oliver sat back comfortably. From the corner of his eye, he noticed: "Perce, you've got another rip in your robe." He extended his hand to the base of the robe." Right here, it's--"

"I know," Percy said quickly. "Happened this morning after the prefect's meeting. It's fine, Ol. Really." He slid a little ways down the seat, his robe now out of Oliver's reach.

_What the hell--_

Oliver retracted his hand quickly, turning in time to see the puzzled faces of Fred and George Weasley.

"Man," he muttered, feeling his face heat up. _What did Percy think I was going to do? _"Er- On the field. Now! Let's get that practice in!"

The twins paused, their faces still frozen. After a moment, Fred said simply, "We _are _on the field, Oliver."

_Yes, Captain, that would be the pitch they're hovering over. _"All right then. Start your drills. I'll be right down."

Once more, Oliver felt Percy's hand on his shoulder. Through the fabric, his hand still felt cold and heavy; unlike earlier though, it took all of his energy not to shake it off. "Ol, are you feeling well enough for practice? You know, after this morning and considering you were just here a little over twelve hours ago--"

"Course I am," Oliver said brightly, giving Percy's own shoulder a thump that was hard (_and manly!_), causing him to spill tea over his robe. "Er-- Sorry 'bout that, Perce. Really. Gotta run. Thanks for the sandwich and cookies. And tea – that was good tea."

With a short wave, he started down the stairways and to the locker rooms, pausing only when he heard Fred speaking:

"So, Perce. What a surprise it was to George and myself, seeing you at practice again."

"And in his favorite spot, too, Fred. Near the Keeper's hoop."

Even from the stairway, Oliver could have sworn he heard Percy sigh. "Come off it. You two know that Oliver and I are partners in this assignment. If we didn't reschedule our lives around these things, we'd fail."

Shaking his head, he raced back down the stairs. _If only Percy knew we weren't part of the assignment anymore. _

--

Ignoring his brothers, Percy took a napkin from his lunch bag and began to scrub at the tea stain. _No use! It's set, damn it! _Now both of his robes were ruined, his normal robe torn and stained with tea, and his winter one burned the night before at practice. It occurred to Percy that these Quidditch practices were more hazardous than he originally thought.

_Maybe some cold water on it – yes, in the locker rooms. No_, he shook his head. If the twins ever discovered him in the locker room while Oliver was getting ready – no, he'd have to figure out another way to remove the stain. Besides, his roommate seemed like he needed some time alone, he obviously had a lot on his mind. And that fact was strange in itself, as Oliver wasn't a nervous man by nature (_unlike me_, Percy added). Yet he seemed preoccupied with--

"Earth to Percy." A hand waved in front of his face.

Percy blinked, only now noticing that his brothers still hovered in front of the stands. Exchanging a look with his twin, George said, "Is there something wrong?"

"Of course not," he snapped, much harsher than he intended. He sighed. "It's nothing."

"It's the assignment, right?" Fred said softly, a foreign look of concern on his face.

_Just… go do your drills! _He responded hesitantly: "It's complicated."

"Yeah? Well, hang in there Perce."

"Be strong. It'll be over soon."

Percy stared at his brothers. Were they being sensitive? Caring?

"Of course," Fred continued seriously. "You might want to consider some things now that it's the second day of the assignment."

_What does he know? _"Like what?"

George nodded, a similar solemn expression on his face. "Well, you are going out with the Quidditch team captain. So--"

"You might want to consider putting out a little."

Before Percy could grab his wand, the twins were cackling down the way to the pitch, lining for their drills just as Oliver walked out, broom in hand. _My talk earlier did nothing_, Percy thought, mixed sensations of amusement and gloom running through him. At least they weren't saying anything in front of Oliver – _yet._

_And why did they have to bring that up anyway? It's not like I could forget the differences between Ol and I. _Percy leaned back in his seat, his head resting on the bench behind him. Oliver might be his only roommate, his best friend, but Percy knew he embodied a part of the school's spirit that he could never touch. _Well, it wasn't as though he'd ever made me feel out of place, awkward. Except today, really. _Percy stared at the clouds, ignoring the clamor on the pitch. _Even when he came out, I never felt our friendship threatened. Merlin, I hope he didn't feel that way!_

Of course, he knew, there was the matter of Oliver's silence about his love life. But if he'd been in love before - truly heartfelt, full-blown love, he would have told his best friends. Right? _Right?_

Percy sighed. Only earlier he'd been reasoning how his relationship with Penny could have alienated Oliver and yet here Percy was feeling the same way. Something wasn't making much sense.

The only information he was sure of was that Oliver had a secret, one that developed just after their breakfast together-- _No, that's not right. It seems to me that he was acting strange at breakfast as well. But what could have happened in that little time, just before we met again in the Great Hall? _And somehow McGonagall knew that secret (_Right?_), discussed it with Oliver in lieu of classes and Oliver, in his wisdom, deemed it private enough to keep from his best friend. _I wonder if he's told Dave… _Percy made a mental note to speak with his blond-haired friend in Plum's class. _But would he have had time to tell Dave, just before we met up in the library before lunch?_

_Lunch…_

_Penny! Oh... bugger! _Percy quickly rolled up the arm of his robe and glanced at his watch, already knowing how futile that effort would be. He usually ate lunch with Penelope, forgotten today in the midst of friendship crisis and secrets of which he still didn't know the answers. _She just might be with Adam anyways. _At that thought, he felt a twinge of optimism (_at least she won't miss me_) followed by puzzlement: _I'm her boyfriend. Won't she care if I'm not there?_

But he was even more puzzled as the thought crossed his mind: _Does it really matter if I'm there or not?_

Ignoring the edgy suspicion that was growing around his friendships, Percy dipped into the bag of cookies and took out another, losing his thoughts in a mixture of peanut butter and chocolate chip. In his newfound role as a spectator to Oliver's practices, he found the outdoors a less threatening atmosphere than before. It was hard for him to focus, sitting high above the field as Oliver flew back and forth in front of the Keeper's hoop, yelling commands in his thick Scottish brogue that Percy wasn't even sure a fellow Scotsman could understand.

The air cool and damp on his face, the sky glowing darker in the early afternoon hours, Percy was enjoying just being there, sitting back and allowing the stress of the day wash over him. Besides, watching Quidditch really wore him out.

Practice was only held for forty-five minutes and after he heard Oliver's last instructions bellowed from beneath the stands, he packed up his and Oliver's things, setting down to the locker rooms. Step, step, stomp. Pause. _I'm really going to have to find a better way to keep in shape. The stairs just aren't doing it._

He paused outside of the locker room, uncertain if he should enter.

Early afternoon classes began right after lunch and the players soon raced past Percy, their hair damp from showers and the smell of soap lingering long after they were gone. He exchanged a small smile with a few, stiffening when he brothers emerged from the locker room, pausing to speak:

"He's in there, Perce. Clothes and all. Sorry if that's a disappointment."

Fred elbowed George. "We'll try to get him unclothed for you if we win the game tomorrow. Celebratory tumble."

Percy rolled his eyes, trying to keep his lips together. The fresh air had put him in a good mood and as much as he hated to admit it, his brothers were sometimes too much to resist a smile. _Sometimes. _

He knocked on the locker room door, poking his head in. "Ol, I'm here. You ready yet?"

Wearing only trousers, Oliver was sitting on a bench, looking up to give a tight smile as he put on his socks. Percy's breath caught at the sight of him. _Almost makes me want to get on a broom. Almost. _He self-consciously raised the pile of textbooks in front of his chest as Oliver said: "Nah. You go on ahead, I'll meet you in Plum's class in – err"

"Five minutes." Percy warned.

"Right. Five minutes. There are some things I wanted to go over here. We won't be allowed back on the pitch until early tomorrow morning."

_Keep this pace up and you'll be too tired to even play tomorrow._ "Just don't be too late. I'll wait for you up front, all right?"

"Sure, sure, Perce," Oliver said quickly. "No problem. Now, get out of here. I'm right behind you."

All thoughts focused now on Plum's first class after the assignment charms, Percy left the locker room area quickly. He didn't notice the Slytherins that stood in the shadows, flexing their arms menacingly, waiting impatiently for him to leave.

--

Oliver hadn't meant to lie to Percy – at least, _not really. _When his teammates left after practice, a flash of green caught the corner of his eye, shining bright in a dark corner of the locker room. He'd opened his mouth to issue challenge, to bring this shadow forth, this obvious _Slytherin_ out into the light and get whatever _business _he had in mind out of the way. Before he had a chance, though, Percy had looked in and Oliver did he best to lead him away, knowing that asking him to wait would lead to--

_Not that I can protect Percy forever_. Oliver knew that as soon as their marriage was made public knowledge, not even their friends would be able to keep straight faces or resist a tease. But sometimes the only things that mattered were life's big moments and how you respond, react, to the challenge. Wasn't that what Percy said last night anyways?

And so that was Oliver's quick reasoning that led to his current position: as a heap of wounded flesh on the cold locker room floor, bleeding from his mouth and nose, his eyes already too swollen to open. He could barely hear a disturbing, wailing sound, realizing moments later that the inhuman noises were coming from him. Just the thought of moving sent waves of nausea through his body, spinning the room into a kaleidoscope of twisted images. If he'd only known that it wasn't just one Slytherin in the shadows but the entire Quidditch team, he might have tried outrunning them, perhaps even using his broom for a quick escape. This whole situation, lying helpless on the floor, his cheek firmly smacked into the grime – _it's not like it's unexpected at this point now, is it Ol? Chalk up another mistake to my stupidity_, he thought deprecatingly.

_But at least it's not Percy. _That was the one bright spot in this mess, this actual literal mess that he was still too numbed to move away from.

After another few minutes passed, Oliver tried to focus on a stick lying in front of him. _That's either my wand… or a twig. If only I could reach it… _If only he could grasp his wand, he would cast a few common cleaning and first aid spells, perhaps even managing to get into the showers.

_And it'll be like this whole incident never happened._

--

Gnawing at the corners of his fingernails, Percy wearily eyed the classroom door from his front row seat, anticipating each approaching footstep as Oliver's. He'd arrived at class with minutes to spare, setting up his quill and parchment just as Professor Plum walked in the door.

"Hello, Mr. Weasley," he said, dropping his lesson plan onto his desk. He spoke so low as for only the students nearby to hear him. "How might you be today?"

_Did he just wink at me?_

Percy straightened his back, his hands folded in front of him. "I'm fine, thank you Professor. Er-- How are you?"

Plum mouth opened and closed. And opened again, asking hesitantly, "You're-- fine, are you? You're _really_-- fine?"

"Of course." Percy's forehead creased. "Shouldn't I be fine? Er-- Aren't you fine?" _Am I missing something here?_

Seeming to snap out of his confusion, Plum jumped, clapping his hands together twice. "Of course, of course," he answered, loud enough now for everyone to snap to attention. "It's so good to see you all here! And you've sat next to your partners for today's class, that's very good, very good. I'll give you all a few moments to get settled." He busied himself about his desk, his eyes occasionally glancing up and meeting Percy's, only to be quickly directed away.

After his unsuccessful attempts to catch Plum's gaze, Percy turned his attention to the door. _Whatever is that man talking about? And where the hell is Oliver? _He rotated the quill in his hand, the feather lightly tickling his wrist. He flipped through the textbook, then his notes and back to the textbook again, all the while keeping his eyes on the doorway.

Until something poked sharply into his back.

"Karen!" he hissed, knowing the source of the attack before he turned around. Sitting directly behind him, Karen and Dave were leaning forward in matching positions, their elbows propped on the desk, chins resting on fists.

"Yes?" Dave wore a bemused smile.

"What are you two doing up here?" Percy asked shortly, glancing over his shoulder at the door once more. _Any longer and he'll be officially late. This better not affect our grade!_

"Everyone's paired up, so we thought we'd come a little bit closer to you and Oliver. We reasoned we'd be safe with a seat near the front row, center," Karen teased, exchanging a smile with Dave.

"Where is Hogwarts favorite Scot, anyhow?" Dave tried to look past Percy and towards the doorway. "Did he overdo things at practice?"

Percy shrugged, trying remembering how he left the pitch. _I went into the locker room – no, I looked inside, and he was changing. Everyone else had left, he told me to go on ahead. But if he'd planned to stay for a bit longer, wouldn't he have said something? Unless he thought I'd disapprove… which I would, but that's beside the point! _At the time, it occurred to Percy that perhaps, after the twins' disappearing clothing incident last night, Oliver might not feel comfortable changing in front of him. But that seemed to contradict so much of his personality that Percy had come to know over the past six years.

_Or thought I'd known… _Percy shook his head to himself, trying to rid the nagging sense of irritability that was turning inside of him. That smidgen of self-doubt that seemed to grow as the day passed on, stemming solely from the reasons why Oliver felt the need to keep so many secrets from him.

Turning back to his friends, he met their curious eyes with an uncertain voice. "I've no idea where he's at. He said he'd be right behind me," Percy took a long breath before leaning in closer to Dave. "Do you know about this secret he has?"

The blond man raised his eyebrows. "Secret? No. Haven't a clue."

"Why would he-- Oh, you mean the meeting this morning?" Briefly, Karen looked to her side, exchanging a look with Dave. "I'm sure whatever it is, he'll tell you. He's not a secretive guy."

Dave cleared his throat. "He's probably just taking his time getting to class. Or maybe he stopped to help a student find their room or something. You know how he is."

Percy gave him a deadpan stare. "Help someone find a classroom in _December_?"

"Oh, you know Oliver," Karen spoke pointedly, shaking her head. "He's probably taken the broom for another ride. Or thought up a new Quidditch strategy for the game tomorrow, and he's writing it down in the Play Book."

Neither of these explanations sounded plausible to Percy. _Maybe in third year, even fourth, but he wouldn't consider doing those things now._ Oliver may not be the most academically driven student at Hogwarts but he rarely missed class and even then, never without telling Percy first. _Actually, none of these explanations even sound like plausible excuses my friends would make up, much less believe themselves._

Keeping his focus forward and quill on the parchment, he half-turned his head over his shoulder and whispered: "Do you guys know something that I--"

"I'm sorry, Professor," Oliver breezed into the room, immediately sitting down hard in the chair next to Percy's. Though his shirt was untucked and his hair messed, he looked just as Percy left him in the locker room, albeit a little breathless. He looked at Percy with stressed eyes, though he gave a quick shrug as though to say, 'No big deal.'

"Practice ran late today. If you'd like, I could get a note from--"

Plum held up a hand, stopping his explanation. "That will be all right, Mr. Wood. Considering the game tomorrow, I think we'd best forget this little incident, don't you think?" His eyes widened at Oliver, as though his words were some secret message that only the two would understand. __

_Who'd-a-thought Plum was a Quidditch fan, _Percy mused as he turned in his seat to face his partner. He had planned to ask what held him up, as practice was clearly over when he'd last seen him. But Oliver was facing the opposite direction, focused on tying his shoelaces with such concentration that by the time he'd finished, Plum had cleared his throat to call the classroom to order.

"Twenty-four hours," the professor declared from his chair. The room quieted down immediately as students turned to face him, looking expectantly, eager for once for their next instructions. With a hint of a smile playing at his lips, the professor looked around at each student before rising from behind the desk. "For one full day, you've been married to your partners. Hopefully you've participated in some aspects of their lives, learned something about the other that you haven't previously known. Anyone?"

"He's an ass!"

"We've started dating!"

"My parents have been to see Dumbledore about you!"

"She has a comfortable mattress!" (This comment was followed immediately with a _slap! _sound, Percy noticed).

The room enveloped into chaos of shouts and laughter, everyone impatient to share, gossip, bemoan and tease about their own experiences. Smiling and nodding encouragingly, Plum looked around the room as though he were hearing each individual story, delighted at the excitement, the _energy _that flowed with good conversation.

He walked to Percy and Oliver's desk, stopping just as his thighs brushed the front of the table. He clasped his hands behind his back. "That's wonderful, wonderful news. As always, remember you can take your questions to me or another teacher at any time." (_Fat chance, _Percy remembered his earlier difficulties in trying to find answers). "Let's see. How are things going between you and Mr. Sharp, Miss George? I understand you two were together before the assignment?"

Percy looked over his shoulder. Karen was biting her bottom lip as though trying to find something to say. Eventually, she started slowly, "Well, we're spending a lot of time together. But, you see Professor, nothing's really changed there."

Shouts of "Shame! " and "Dave, are you blind?" ran through the students and, Percy was pleased to see, his blond-haired friend turned red at the banter. _At least now I know that kind of blush isn't limited to the Weasley family. _Even Oliver himself contributed to the heckling.

"I've a few things to teach you, Dave-my-boy," a Ravenclaw teased from across the room.

Looking around, Percy saw that it was Adam who spoke. Adam, whose arm was now draped casually over the back of his partner's chair, his head leaned in and almost touching her blond curls…

_Oh, Penelope looks nice today, _Percy thought belatedly, only now realizing she was present in the classroom. _Looks very nice and… clean. She always looks tidy. _Some part of him wondered if Dave ever used the words 'clean' or 'tidy' to describe his girlfriend's primary attributes.

He coughed.

"It's just," Karen started again as the room quieted once more. Unlike Dave, she had only smiled when the students twisted her words. "We're not sure what you're looking for, other than proximity to one another. And cooperation."

The professor beamed. "And that, Miss George, is a lovely lead-in to today's lesson: 'Honesty!'" Plum used his trademark air-quotation gestures.

"Not the air-quotes. Anything but that," Oliver muttered, nudging Percy.

Plum was pacing. "How you present yourself to the world can be completely different to how you interact with your mate. Yesterday I warned you all there would be little tests you would hardly know of, all of which are going to be used to determine your final grade. And to me," Plum said, hoping onto the surface of the desk and crossing his legs, "I feel that your measure of honesty for the first twenty-four hours would be most telling of how seriously you've taken this assignment. Since you've been together only a short time, and the charms aren't real," Plum coughed heavily, and then cleared his throat, "we'll only focus on how honest you've been with your partner since the bonding. This is a charm I've worked up for this assignment only, thus making the spell inoperable under normal bonds." As a side note to himself, he muttered, "But wouldn't it be lovely if married couples actually could use it…" _Ahem. _"Take a look behind me, please."

Plum waved his wand, an incantation lighting the classroom wall, complete with illustrations and dialect pronunciation. An empty, capped vial appeared on each desk. "When performed correctly, the vial will fill with a cloud that corresponds to your level of honesty with each other. White symbolizes total honesty and sincerity to how you've interpreted the assignment. But honesty can also be disastrous to a relationship-- and let's be truthful: No one can be totally honest all the time. We're aiming for an ivory or bone-colored cloud, but I'll accept cream with full points. The darker the cloud, the less honest you've been. You've the entire class. Begin… now!"

"Where were you?" Percy whispered, his eyes darting back and forth, reading the incantation and looking at the empty vial. "You said you were right behind me?"

Oliver sighed. "Took me a bit to put everything away. Nothin' to worry about, Perce. I made it here on time, Plum's not going to deduct anything from our assignment."

"Oliver, I didn't mean it like that. But if you thought you were going--"

As though Oliver hadn't heard Percy, he turned his back to him, looking over his shoulder at Dave and Karen. "How's it going, guys? Looks a bit complicated for Plum's class, eh?"

Karen shook her head, her eyes watching as Dave hovered his wand over the vial, already muttering the charm quietly under his breath. "Not really. Dave and Perce covered this kind of incantation in their Charms class this year." In low voices, she and Oliver began to discuss the advantages of being partners with students in Honors Charms.

Percy reverted his gaze to the classroom wall. Dave was right; the incantation might have been difficult if he hadn't already been tested on this technique. From the corner of his eye, he watched Plum go from desk to desk, helping students fill their vials. Already, he had helped some pairs to fill their vials with clouds of creams and yellows (and one very nasty orange, Percy noted). The trick was to balance the wand correctly to the rhythm of the words.

_Best get started then_, the redhead resolved. He set out his wand, positioned over the vial, and began muttering the Latin spell that would determine their level of honesty to each other. _Piece of cake._ He couldn't have asked for a more interesting charm; after all, he knew Oliver was keeping _something_ from him. And since he's never been anything except honest with his roommate, he couldn't help his growing curiosity at what color the vial would show.__

He finished the spell quickly and, with a quick look at Oliver, they both leaned in close to see the results.

Nothing happened.

"That's strange," Percy muttered, staring at the vial's clear contents. "Let me try again." Quickly, he repeated the spell and wand positions, speaking slower to ensure that all his words were pronounced clearly.

The vial remained transparent. _I couldn't have done anything wrong. Maybe there's something wrong with the vial--_

"Oliver," he started, turning to his friend. But Oliver was staring at Professor Plum who, Percy noticed, was standing at Adam and Penelope's desk, watching her finish the incantation. The vial turned a pristine bone color and Plum clapped, exclaiming, "Excellent! That's the brightest one I've seen yet!" At those words, Penelope leaned into Adam, both smiling brightly at their success.

"Oliver," Percy tried again, taking his eyes away from the group. He jumped when he realized Oliver's eyes had already gone back to him, watching him stare at Penelope and Adam. "Er-- what do you suppose went wrong here? You want to give it a try?"

Oliver rolled his eyes, his cheeks stained with the faintest hint of a blush. "Perce, if this isn't working for you, how's it suppose to work for me?" Still, he raised his wand and spoke the Latin words in a clear voice, moving his arm to the rhythm of the spell. And yet, true to his words, the vial remained clear.

"Heh heh," Oliver chuckled nervously. "You suppose we have a homophobic vial here?"

"Not unless it was charmed by the Slytherins." Percy thought he saw Oliver stiffen at his words. He cleared his throat again, as though to reset the mood, and turned in his chair. "Dave, how'd you get your--"

But his two friends were leaning over their own vial, looking panic stricken at the results. Inside, the vial showed a dark blue cloud with shades of grays and blacks rapidly turning through the blue.

"That's—there must be something wrong with our vials," Percy started slowly. His friends looked up at him, then towards each other with questioning glances. _Why would their relationship be showing blue? _As much as he didn't like to admit it, Dave and Karen had the strongest relationship he knew, even more so than his relationship with Penelope.

Dave spoke first, slowly. "I've never been anything but honest with you, Karen. What's--"

"Percy's right," she blurted, looking at Percy and Oliver. As though by purpose, she didn't acknowledge Dave. "There must be something wrong! Why would--"

"Ah, and how might we be doing here?" Plum started, and then gasped when he noticed the vial. "Blue! Look at this, class!" He held up the vial for everyone to see. Both Karen and Dave turned red and sunk in their seats, still not looking at each other. "Related to dishonesty, a dark blue symbolizes a lack of communication, that there are some truths being withheld. See the clouds of black turning in the blue? This shows that the feeling is restricted to only one of the partners. Which one of you is it?" Plum peered over his glasses at the partners, who remained silent to answer the question. "I see. Well, I'm not happy to see this in any case. The fact that you were together before the assignment might play a factor, but there's other couples in here who have been dating for awhile. Let's see some improvement by tomorrow, all right?"

"Way to go, Dave!" Someone yelled from the back of the room.

With meek expressions, both nodded and then shifted their gaze to the desk, unwilling to look at the other. Percy didn't know what to say and, judging by the shocked expression on Oliver's face, he surmised that his friend was also at a loss for words.

Percy tapped the point of his quill on the desk. "Professor? I'm afraid there's something wrong with our vial here. Could you take a look at it?"

"Hmmm? Oh, yes. Mr. Weasley, aren't you in Honors Charms? You should be able to perform that spell easily without my help."

_Lord. Don't embarrass me academically! _Percy felt the trademark Weasley blush start – the tingling in his toes, the nausea in his tummy, the warmth circling his neck. And-- oh, there it was: the full out blast of red that painted his face, his ears and (he felt certain) made his red hair stand even more on end. Self-consciously, he ran a hand through the curls, trying to muster a good response that might redeem his intellect.

Plum peered at him over his glasses, looking at his reddened facial features. "Do you need one of my blood pressure pills?" he whispered. "No? All right then."

He heard Oliver stifle a laugh.

_I can't wait until professor evaluation time comes around._

"I'll handle this for you, gentlemen," the professor said importantly, taking the clear vial and turning to the side of the classroom. Percy straightened up, trying to see the color of the cloud but Plum turned away, the vial now lost in the layers of his robe as his wand gave pronounced jerks.

Percy leaned into Oliver, brushing their shoulders together. "Ol, this doesn't sound like the same--"

"Done!" Plum exclaimed, placing a vial of pure white _something_ on their desk. "That's good, boys. Who's next?" He walked by them without further comment, smacking his lips.

Now filled, the vial rolled back and forth on the desk, the contents appearing like a heavy, snowy mist rather than the expected cloudy texture. It looked-- _It looks unnatural_, Percy realized with a start. "Does this look right, guys?" Percy asked, before noticing that Oliver had turned back to Dave as they tried to determine why their cloud had turned blue. Karen remained silent.

"Guys?" he interjected louder, waiting until they turned their attention to him. "This isn't right. The cloud can't be white. This isn't even a cloud, look at it! And I _know _the incantation used wasn't--"

Hands clapped and all the vials vanished from each desk. "Excellent! Only a few vials filled with dark colors, and I expect those partners to work out their problems this evening. Those with dark vials, I'll be performing this incantation tomorrow after class with you. Understood?" Plum raised his eyebrows, looking behind Percy's head, himself certain that Dave and Karen were still shrinking in their chairs. "Wonderful! Now I have a special notice. Due to the third-year Herbology disaster – you remember, the headmaster was discussing this in the Great Hall last evening?" Plum rolled his eyes. "Anyways, Professor Sprout will need the late morning sun to de-charm the affected plants. So I'll be expecting you here for this class instead."

For the first time in Percy's academic career, he heard murmurs of excitement ripple through his classmates, eager for another day of Plum's class.

"Right," Plum smacked his hands and lips together in unison. "Also, I'm to remind you that late afternoon classes tomorrow are cancelled due to the Winter Quidditch Finale, this year between Gryffindor and Slytherin. Good luck to the players-- er, player here," he added, with a pointed look at Oliver. "Now, keep paying attention to your bonding, reporting any problems to me. I'll see you all here tomorrow, remember!"

Chaos broke out as the class scrambled to gather their papers and books, intending to make the most of their five-minute break before the next class. Of course, Percy thought as he tried to see Adam and Penelope from his seat, normally his fellow students weren't this happy for a Tuesday afternoon but the assignment's novelty still hadn't worn off. For a quick second, he thought he saw a flash of Penelope's blond hair exit the room. _Must have a test or something. We'll talk later, anyways, _he reassured himself, though a part of him wondered if he'd find the time to speak with Penny at the prefect's lounge, especially with Adam there.

He cleared his throat. "I'm going to ask Plum about the charms." He gathered his textbooks into a pile, ignoring Oliver who had turned and looked questionably at him, seeming to be trying to form the right words to say. But Percy had already leaned forward in his chair and said loudly over the noise, "Sir? I've a question about the bonding and the charms you performed. Do you suppose you could spare a moment to--"

"Sorry, Mr. Weasley," Plum said, hurriedly taking his lesson plan books and rushing out the door with the stream of students. "Perhaps tomorrow. I'm in a bit of a hurry right now!" He gave a short, apologetic wave as he scurried out of sight.

Still sitting at his desk, Percy was dumbfounded, numb. There it was – just another strangeness to the day that put the ink on the quill, so to speak. When had life gotten so complicated, so _nasty_? Within twenty-four hours, his professors had ostracized him to the point they were running away before he could ask a question. Plum had even faked the honesty charm today - of that, he was increasingly certain. Oliver earlier as much confessed that he was keeping a secret from him. And Penny wasn't accessible for advice or comfort, both of which he rarely received from her but nonetheless, he felt she'd certainly provide considering the circumstances.__

_And then there's my friendship with Oliver_. Since they were 'married,' their friendship had been strengthened by sharing their activities, partaking in good conversation; yet also made awkward with the silent questions that arose: _Haven't we always been close enough friends to know each other this well? If we weren't in this assignment, wouldn't he tell me his secret? And what took him so long to get to class?_

Dave and Oliver were talking Quidditch strategies behind him, the other students (_including Karen_, he noticed) having already emptied the room to make the most of the break. He half-turned to watch them, their faces animated, hands using wild gestures that only paused to draw the outline of the Quidditch pitch and player positions on the insides of their textbooks. And even the horror at seeing their illustrations _inside a book_ wasn't enough to alleviate the sinking feeling of paranoia that was firming in his heart, saying louder and louder: _Just how close are we, anyways?_

Students for the next class already begun entering the room and, taking this silent cue, all three boys simultaneously rose. Percy interrupted his friends, "Dave and I have Honors Potions, then Ancient Runes. We'll meet in the dormitory after last class?"

"Sure, Perce," came Oliver's casual response. He coughed. "Whatever."

Percy turned fast on his heel, forgetting himself in the surprise at Oliver's short answer.

_Whatever?!! What've I ever done to-- _About to pose question, he stopped upon meeting brown eyes that stared back into his own, small and guarded, as though to bring him to challenge. This was not, in Percy's experience, an Oliver Wood who should be confronted. But still he reached out a hand, placing it gently on his friend's shoulder. "Ol," he started. Just as his hand made contact, Oliver jumped back, letting out a slight yelp.

He looked at Percy in surprise, rubbing his shoulder with his hand. "Don't touch me, Percy," he hissed, grabbing his books and heading out the door.

_What the--_

Eyes wide, Dave looked at Percy. "Did I miss something between you two?"

Feeling as though he were slapped, Percy bit his tongue, not trusting any response, any excuse, he might provide. _Everything seemed fine last night, this morning. What the hell happened to him since then?_

Aware Dave was watching him, he gave a short nod and walked away, forgetting that they shared the next few classes together. He entered into the crowded corridor and let himself be swept away in the student tide, more defeated and alone than he'd ever felt at Hogwarts.

--

Rushing to the dormitory after a particularly boring potions class, Oliver thought back over the events of the past few hours. Not that they'd be difficult for him to forget; after all, it wasn't everyday that he lied (_poorly lied_, he knew) to his best friend. Or had to struggle with a way of telling Percy that Plum set them up for the most humiliating experience of their lives, with no immediate solution in sight. And on top of everything, Oliver's quick turns and stairway climbs were beginning to resemble, he knew, ballet pirouettes, the pain of the Slytherins locker room visit unwilling to disappear as easily as the scars. __

But despite his aching shoulders and legs, and the distant thought about the quality of his health for the Quidditch game tomorrow, Oliver continued up the Gryffindor dormitory staircase slowly, only focused on how poorly he treated Percy. There was no reason to keep the news from him any longer; after all, if their situations were reversed, he'd want to know immediately what was going on. And besides, he knew he couldn't (_wouldn't!_) keep a secret from Percy any longer than he had too. Because after Plum's class, after sitting alone in his last two classes, the only fact he could focus on was: _Merlin, I'm scum._

With great relief, Oliver arrived at the top of the staircase, pausing to catch his breath and stretch his arms, trying to relieve the stiffening that had begun. The door to their room was open. Percy was sitting at his desk with his back to the doorway, his quill working furiously, his head resting on the desk surface as he wrote. The winter sun was setting early, its harsh rays shining on his form and through his hair, illuminating the orange layers to a fire engine-red.

And suddenly Oliver was taken back to this morning when it occurred to him that his feelings weren't just of the friendship variety. That inexplicable _something _that seemed to fill him, warm him, while also being the source of intense nausea. Oliver tried to push the thought out of his mind, knowing just how bittersweet it would be to even consider thinking about his roommate in that way. Because, as good as a friend Percy might be, he was as straight as men came. And, Oliver well knew, it wouldn't take a lot of energy for this Quidditch player for fall completely, head-over-heels in love with the man sitting at the desk.

Oliver choked at this thought, leaning against the doorframe to catch his breath. When he'd calmed, the quill had stopped moving but Percy's head was still resting on the desk. Waiting.

He took a step forward, knowing that one of the hardest (and truth be told, sometimes easiest) aspects of friendship was trying to apologize without actually using the exact words. He let out a shaky breath. "You're all set for the night?"

Percy grunted something that sounded like 'yep' from underneath his huddled form. His quill resumed writing.

Oliver put his textbooks on top of his own desk. "Want me to get us some food for later?"

An index finger jutted out from under the huddle, pointing to the two brown bags that sat on Percy's nightstand. The quill didn't stop moving in the other hand.

_Ok, I get it. You're the better friend here. _Oliver sighed. No matter what had happened, Percy was going to have to meet him halfway on this one, at least for him to muster the courage to tell him the truth.

"You brown bag a lot, don't you?" The burly man walked (as best he could) over to Percy's bed, sitting on the corner. "Me too, when I'm at practice. Seems like we're always being pulled in different directions. Well, not this week," he chuckled dryly.

No answer.

Oliver stretched his arms out and up, trying not to groan at the pain. "Er- Perce?" he started, trying steady his breathing. "What exactly happens at the prefect's lounge? Anything illegal?"

Percy spun around in his chair, raising his eyebrows. Oliver gave him a hesitant smile, gratefully taking the gesture as a reaffirmation of their friendship.

"Tonight's straight-forward." Mindful of the wet ink, Percy carefully rolled up the parchment and tied a swift bow. "I did my tutoring in the library earlier and wrote to Hermione beforehand, so she'll take over any others that need help tonight. It's mostly just patrolling and paperwork, and I've a quick meeting with the headmaster before we go," Percy paused, looking at Oliver thoughtfully. "Take your play book. I've a feeling that you'll need it."

"Have you ever seen me go anywhere without it?" Oliver joked lightly, lying back on the bed. Percy always took care to ensure his bed free of lumps, unlike his own that bulged with tossed socks and wrinkled sheets, and he often took advantage of his roommate's compulsion for neatness. He stared at the ceiling. It felt good to be finally lying down and giving his aching, bruised shoulders and legs a rest. "You're always busy, Perce. Not that you ever say anything about it."

Pause. Oliver was certain that if he were sitting up, Percy would be looking thoughtfully at him, as though choosing the right words for a response. _I wish he wouldn't do that. He doesn't have to do that with me._

"You're always busy too, Ol," came the response. "Seems like we've been good at finding things to distract us ever since we came here."

"Yeah," Oliver chuckled softly, closing his eyes and smiling. "Keeps us out of trouble, you might say. Funny we've even had time to introduce ourselves. Why, I don't think we've ever spent an entire school day together here. I go one way, you go the other, and we're lucky when we do meet up in between." He reached behind his head and, fingers touching a pillow, quickly pulled it under his head.

"It's been nice, though," Percy started, stopping short as though he realized he didn't want to say that. "I mean-- I mean, that we get to spend more time together now. Because, you know... It can be a little… you know..."

_Is this Percy Weasley, letting a sentence, a thought, go unfinished? _Quickly, Oliver was snapped back into the waking world, his eyes now wide open. He sat up slowly, mindful of his aches. Percy was still half-turned in his chair, an elbow slung over the back and his chin resting thoughtfully on his forearm. One sleeve had been rolled up to write, and Oliver only noticed now how many freckles coated his arm, standing out amongst the pale skin. His eyes were closed. _Though his nature may be quiet, I don't think I've ever seen Percy so tranquil, _he thought.

And as much as he didn't want to disturb such peace, knowing Percy rarely experienced a good rest from the world, Oliver couldn't help but try to put his last sentence together, eventually coming up with, "… lonely?"

Percy's blue eyes suddenly stared back at him. "What's the time, Ol?" he asked quickly, before biting his top lip under.

_Uh-uh. You're not getting out of this one, Weasley_. Heart racing, Oliver scooted to the corner nearest the desk. He felt a tight muscle twinge in his back. "Are you ever lonely, Perce?"

Straightening his back, Percy turned towards his desk, his fingers fiddling with the rolls of parchments. "Pretty hard to be lonely, Oliver," he said, in a matter-of-factly way. "It's not like we're bored, or--"

Oliver reached out, touching his arm. He flinched, the cold skin a surprise to his warm hand. "Hey, don't get after me. I was just--"

"Don't get after you?" Percy's blue eyes turned ice, jerking his arm out of Oliver's touch. "After everything--?"

Oliver put his palms up. "Look, I'm sorry for before. But I'm not--"

Percy pushed out his desk chair with his feet, his knees now almost touching Oliver's. He crossed his legs. "Ol, let's reexamine the facts here. You're the one who's keeping secrets. You're the one who's acting funny. My best friend one minute and a puzzle the next. You're hot, then cold. What the hell is going on here?"

Oliver hesitated, ducking his head only briefly to gather his thoughts. _There's the truth, Wood. You're not getting off easy today._ "I know," he started quietly. "I know I haven't been the best of friends today. Perhaps I've never been the most considerate friend, and I'm sorry. I've got a bit on my mind."

"And I don't?" he friend retorted, an arm gesturing to the rolls of parchment on the desk.

"You do, I know," he nodded in earnest. "And there are some things I have to tell you, Percy. I just--," he paused, looking down at the pattern on Percy's comforter. He couldn't bring himself to tell his secret, not with his friend so distressed. "I just …can't." He finished lamely, closing his eyes briefly.

Until, that is, Percy's legs uncrossed and hit against his own. He stood up quickly. "You don't want to. Well, I guess it just doesn't get any clearer than that, Oliver, does it?" Opening the cupboard, he grabbed his robe and swung it around his shoulders, wrapping his arms around the pile of textbooks. He headed towards the door.

"Perce, it's not like that," Oliver tried. But when Percy turned around at the door, his face full of frustration and hurt, he felt the wind knocked out of him, unable to find the words to ask him to stay.

"Am I ever lonely, Oliver," Percy repeated his question quietly, looking at him with big blue eyes, shining with genuine sorrow. "Always. Always lonely, Oliver. And how can I ignore that? If I'm not someone's brother or their tutor or their roommate," he spit out the last word, "then why the _hell _would they want to confide in me, anyways."

His words weighed heavily on Oliver, who immediately stood and stepped forward. "Oh, Perce," he breathed out quietly.

"Look at today, Ol. Is there any reason to keep denying that my life is like _this_?"

Words of encouragement came back to Oliver, ones spoken by Percy the night before, their significance hitting him with a resonating logic. _Percy is just trying to live his life here the best way he knows how, with the cards he's dealt. _And surprising, Oliver realized with another jolt, as perfectly balanced and level-headed as his friend's persona always appeared to be, he needed to have some form of stability, certainty, reinforced often.

_And who didn't? _Oliver thought bitterly, realizing that everything Percy was saying had some ring of truth. _How long has he felt this way? Why haven't I been there for him?_

Percy was still talking, now biting back a choke. "My professors won't even talk to me. They think I'm a-a joke! You're keeping me at a distance which, of course, you always have, right?"

Oliver shook his head hard. "No, Perce. I--"

"Dave's got his own life, his own worries. And my girlfriend," Percy used the back of his sleeve to wipe his brow. "My girlfriend won't even give me the time of day. So, Oliver, if you'll excuse me, I've a meeting with the headmaster right now and then my duties to perform. If you prefer not to join me in the lounge, that's fine. I'll _certainly _understand!" Without waiting for an answer, he rushed out the door.

Heaviness settled in Oliver's heart but instead of following Percy or settling down, he began to pace the room. His steps hurried, he walked back and forth, kicking the legs of the beds and chairs, throwing any unfortunate object in his way over to the couch or into the fireplace. _How the HELL did this happen?_

Upset and restless, he walked towards Percy's desk, gripping the back of his chair with tight fists. Without thinking about the implications, he jerked one arm upwards, his fist shooting through the top of the desk, splintering loudly, and sending thin pieces of wood through his skin.

Searing pain coursed through his body, serving only to heighten the aches left by his earlier fight with the Slytherins. His mind went blank for a moment, then suddenly overloaded with belated thoughts of twisted fingers and throbbing _everythings,_ and then finally, the reality of what he'd done. He stumbled to Percy's bed, sitting at the corner once more, and watched the blood drip from his hand onto the faded pattern of his comforter. The pain felt like nothing else he'd experienced, distant and numb, as though his body had shut apart from his mind.

The pain felt deserved.

"Well. _That_ had to hurt."

Oliver looked up to see Dave standing in the doorway, his arms folded, a smirk on his face. _Dave? Did he just see—_Aware he was in a state of detachment, shock, Oliver turned his eyes back down to his arm, looking again at the splinter cuts and jabs, the blood that was still trickling down. After a moment, he said calmly, "Isn't there somewhere else you have to be?"

Chucking softly, Dave shook his blood hair out of his eyes and strolled into the room, towards Percy's bed. He opened the truck, rummaging until he found a small, personal first-aid box. He sat next to Oliver, taking out a handkerchief and placing it over his lap.

Gently taking his arm, Dave placed it on the cloth and peeled back the bloodstained sleeve. He worked in silence, diligently, until the blood was cleaned and most of the splinters removed. After a few minutes passed, he used his wand to close the wounds, though some were too deep to be penetrated with his limited knowledge of healing charms.

"Percy's desk," Dave said softly, his eyes still concentrated on Oliver's arm. "Never has such a desk been used so much. Never has so much time been spent at--"

"Shut it," Oliver said sharply, trying to take his wrist back.

"Uh-uh. Not yet." He continued muttering charms, until: "I can't seem to cover all the wounds. It's almost as though you've used healing charms recen-- Oh. I see." Dave clucked his tongue. He wrapped a cloth bandage around the hand and up his forearm tightly, tying a neat little bow at the top. All the while, Oliver knew, the wheels would be turning in that sharp mind of his. _Cluck._ "There. That's cute, eh? Now, take off your shirt, Ol." __

"What?" Oliver said, trying to center on the words that were being said. But the pain was making it hard to concentrate. "No, this is fine. I'll just change in the--"

"It's only me. Here, I'll even get a shirt for you to change into." Gently taking Oliver's arm off his lap, Dave walked over to his truck, choosing a sweater from the top. "Don't fret. I've no intention of leaving Karen for you, no matter how good you look without your shirt."

"Shut it," Oliver said again, only this time he was unable to hide his amusement. Dave threw the sweater onto Percy's bed. "I'm fine, Dave. Really. Thanks for everything, but--"

"The Slytherins got to you today, didn't they?" his friend asked quickly, folding his arms. _Cluck._

_Don't do this, Dave. _Oliver blinked at him, shaking his arm to allow the blood to flow more evenly. "Wha-- No! Honestly, Dave, I don't know where--"

"That's why you won't take off your shirt now. And why you jumped in Plum's class when Percy touched you. Oliver, he's going to catch on sooner than later." Shaking his head, the young man took out his wand once more and sat next to Oliver, muttering a quick cleaning charm onto the comforter. Most of the blood came out but, to Oliver's horror, the faintest trace of darkness couldn't be wiped away.

"You should have gone to the infirmary immediately. Or I could have helped you with the healing charms. They're bullying you, Ol, just trying to find an excuse to pick on you. No one else feels that way. And Plum would have understood if you couldn't have made it to class."

Oliver stood, slowly removing his shirt. "Plum, maybe. But not Percy."

"Percy deserves to know the truth. I just passed him in the corridor," Dave jerked his head towards the door. "He walked right by me. Don't tell me he doesn't have a lot on his mind."

"Everyone does," Oliver retorted, finally able to remove his arms from the sleeves, allowing the soiled shirt to fall to the floor. He wouldn't look at his chest, unsure of the full impact of the beating.

"Geez, Ol," Dave hissed. "How are you even--"

"Look, I did what I had to do," Oliver said pointedly. "Aren't you the one in Honors Potions? There's the sink over there. Do you think you could take a moment and whip me up somethin' to get rid of this, instead of the lecture?" Well aware he didn't deserve Dave's attention, he nevertheless pulled on the clean sweater in silence and busied himself with tidying the mess he'd made of the room. He wouldn't look at his friend; the sounds of liquid pouring, glasses bumping together and the muttering of quiet charms provided the only clues that he wasn't alone.

After a few moments:

"Over here," Dave said quietly. Looking over, Oliver saw a smoking beaker resting beside the sink, Percy's spare ingredients lined against the wall. Dave was wiping the counter with a cloth and, with a brief glance in his direction, made his way to the couch. For the first time, Oliver noticed the lines of stressed that seemed to line his face, and he remembered the dark blue vial from Plum's class.

_Great, _Oliver thought cynically. _Now I can just add guilt to the emotional rollercoaster of today. _Grabbing the beaker and stifling a sigh, he sat down (carefully!) onto the couch. Slowly, he let the mint-flavored liquid coat his throat, feeling the _tingles_ and _tightenings_ as his body healed.

"Thanks, Dave," he said softly, once the beaker had been emptied.

Shaking his blond hair out of his eyes, Dave turned sideways to look at him. "It's not that big a deal, Ol. So you're married for a bit, so what? So what if it's to Percy?"

"Yeah, so what? It's not like everyone else _isn't _in this boat, eh?" Sighing, Oliver tried to push his own sarcasm aside. "This isn't about being gay or being 'out,' or even being one of two Gryffindors this year. It's about high school trash looking for a reason - any reason, mind you - to call me out. Do me a favor? Don't tell Percy. He has enough to worry about as it is."

"Percy's not your average Gryffindor," Dave started, then added apologetically: "What I mean is, he's bound to figure things out sooner than later. You've been in worse situations anyways, and it helps when you're not alone, when you can have someone to depend on."

"Not alone?" Oliver retorted. "What, would you have preferred that _both _Percy and I got bet to a pulp? You're going to have to trust me on this one, Dave. I _do _have his best interests at heart."

"Yeah. It sure shows through the way you've been treating him."

Oliver moved to the edge of the chair. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"Maybe. But whatever you think about me, remember that he's a lot stronger than you give him credit for." Without waiting for Oliver's response, Dave rose and looked around the room, straightening Percy's bed and putting away the first-aid supplies he used.

Oliver looked over his shoulder, watching him clean the room until his eyes caught sight of what used to be Percy's desk. His pain numbed, the wounds now healing, he viewed the destruction with a clear head. _No… _Now broken, the surface of the desk was at a tilt to the floor, all the books, quills, ink jars and other knickknacks having crashed with the impact. Dave took out his wand. Oliver watched as he neatly levitated the unbroken items to his own desk, with a quickly executed cleaning charm on the spilt ink.

And then, in a day marked already with too many realizations, Oliver was hit with the sudden clarity of what Dave had said earlier. _What if he would understand?_

Oliver looked down at his bandaged forearm and hand, their magic not strong enough to completely erase any evidence of his earlier frustrations. He didn't need Dave to tell him that his poor use of healing charms after practice diminished their current ability to heal his hand. And though the potion was strong and effective, he still felt a strong ache in his shoulders and a soreness in the hand that hit the desk.

"You all right, Ol?" Dave asked at the door.

"Yeah," came Oliver's small answer. _How is it possible that now things are even worse than they were before? _"Thanks, Dave," he said sincerely, meeting his eyes. "I really appreciate that you're here."

"Anytime, you know that. Come on, we'd better get a move on it. Perce should be finished with Dumbledore by now," his friend was quick to answer, giving an encouraging smile as he picked up his own books. "Let's go. We'll have to think up some excuse our favorite head boy will believe. How about you found out I'm betting against you for tomorrow's match, and took your frustrations out on his desk? All in an effort to preserve my beautiful face." His smile grew cheeky.

"I've something to tell you, David," Oliver said quietly, walking over to his friend and placing his good hand on his shoulder. "It's about Perce and I. There's no easy way to say this. But we're-- we're really married."

_--_

Percy rushed through the corridors, past the empty classrooms and down staircases, his feet skipping every second step. Few students were around, probably, he knew, enjoying the few minutes of gossip before dinner began in the Great Hall. And remembering the difficult meal that he and Oliver had yesterday, he felt relief at knowing they'd be spending their evening in the lounge or on patrol, relatively safe from the taunts of his brothers and the Slytherin Quidditch team.

Percy had tried to push _whatever _that'd happened with Oliver to the back of his mind (but of course, only succeeded to focus on their estrangement even more). He hadn't meant to make such a big deal out of his insecurities in their friendship or his paranoia towards this assignment. He was trying to be cool and act the part of the person that he so wanted to be, that he so wanted to be for Oliver. _With Oliver,_ he silently corrected

But Percy was at an age where he was stuck between being true to his self and the persona he wanted to portray, and throwing a guy like _Oliver Wood _into the mix seemed to eliminate all logic. Oliver was the oddcard in his life, the one part that he couldn't provide a reasonable explanation for existing. He brought out Percy's sense of humor and fun, saying the most unpredictable things while observing the least obvious aspects of life and causing him to _think_. And as an academic, Percy well appreciated the gift of a different perspective.

Yet with his friendship came the pressures that Percy rarely challenged. Sure, Oliver would calm him down with a quick look or a warm hand over his own, or even just by pouring a cuppa and sitting back while he ranted over his schoolwork or brothers' latest shenanigans. Percy would tease, yes, and make jokes with his friends that played off his studious nature. But there was always a barrier that separated their personal natures from themselves. The best examples being, he knew now, their silence about their love lives and their quiet determination towards their separate interests.

Before today, he never let his insecurities show so obviously (and loudly), and he would never have said what he had if Oliver's secrets hadn't been weighing heavily on him. Because, he knew, Oliver held the cards in their friendship. He was the 'clichéd jock' (to borrow a term from Dave), the young man that could have any friend he wanted or charm any person that he chose. And despite the secrets and blatant differences between them, Percy would never take his friendship for granted or challenge its sincerity. After all, _he _was the expendable one, not Oliver.

_But today seemed to be an exception to the rule_, he sighed to himself. Just thinking about the words exchanged between them, Oliver's lame excuses and (_Lord_) his own paranoia run rampant, he cringed. Though he felt he was right, even _knew _he was justified to some extent, that didn't stop Percy from feeling that he went over the top. _Not like that's out of character or anything, _he thought harshly.

He'd just rounded another corner quickly when--

"Whoa," Percy exclaimed, sliding on a gooey _something_ just as he set down another flight of stairs. Letting his books fly, he grabbed onto the railing in the hope of stopping the impending fall. But the gooey _something _seemed to coat the railing as well and, like an amateur gymnast, he flipped over the side of the staircase, landing hard on the cobblestone floor.

_SMACK! _

_Lord._

Lifting his head slowly, Percy let out a soft groan, feeling the familiar pain and dizziness of sudden impact. Truth be told, it wasn't the first time this happened to him – even in this very spot. _Actually, if history really does repeat itself, it certainly won't be the last time here at Hogwarts for me. _

He slowly lifted his chest off the floor, leaning on his elbows. His glasses had (_thankfully!_) landed in his lap intact, and he quickly placed them on his head, blinking his eyes back into focus. _Nothing broken. Only, I suspect, my dignity. Come on, Head Boy, you're going to be late._

But just as Percy began to sit back on his knees, the sounds of girlish giggling and whispered promises drifted his way. He sighed, realizing that his meeting would have to be delayed for yet another discussion with amorous students about etiquette. _It never does end for the head boy now, does it?_

Managing to roll over, he looked to his side to see the source of the quiet laughter.

In a darkened hollow beneath a set of stairs opposite his own, a dark-haired student stood tall in the shadows. His body was pressing against a slightly shorter girl whose hands moved rapidly, rhythmically from his hair to below his waist and back up again. Percy could see her long blond curls bobbing over the boy's shoulder and soon, he heard the quick opening of robes, watching in horror as the fabric rippled with the movement underneath. From where he laid, Percy could just make out the gleam of a prefect's badge that glowed brightly in the candlelit corridor.

"Penny?" he whispered.

--

**TBC: Poor Percy. Poor Oliver. Poor Dave. Poor Karen. Though some truths will be revealed, they'll further threaten the friendship of the group. And it's only the end of Day Two.**


	8. 

A huge thank you for the _intense_ beta by **arcanefairy**, aka Beta With A Whip. She advises readers to feel the Zen with Dave.

Chapter 8

_Penny's kissing Adam. _

Penny's kissing Adam and I've fallen down stairs.

Percy remained frozen on the floor, watching as Penelope and Adam moved together in foreign motions that he tried to make sense of.

Intellectually, he was aware of everything that was occurring, even to an exact science; his mind picking out facts and placed them at the forefront of his thoughts to an almost-inhuman scrutiny. He was also aware he'd stopped breathing and blinking. He knew he was going to be late for his meeting with the headmaster. And he was especially conscious of the fact that he should have already crawled away from where he landed, to pretend that this entire incident never occurred.

But he couldn't help the panic that set in:

_Oh Merlin, Penny's kissing Adam! He's holding her so tight, I… I need to find my books. I need to get up and out of here. WHY are they still kissing. I shouldn't be looking. I shouldn't be here. I've duties that are elsewhere – not here, not on the floor, watching THIS. _

Duties. The headmaster. I'm late for the meeting.

Percy could hardly even hear his thoughts anymore, his heartbeat so loud the entire school should have heard its beating. An earthquake-like shaking that echoed off his body and onto the cold (_oh-so cold and hard and solid)_ stone floor that he seemed to sink deeper into with each passing moment. Except that the moments weren't passing and all time had stopped, and he could almost count the number of times he's swallowed and blinked and--

_No no! I must be quiet. They'll hear me! They'll know I'm here, watching them._

But Percy couldn't stop looking. Or ignore the familiar feelings of guilt and shame and humiliation that-- he knew, a part of him _just knew_ – could be labeled as shock and detachment and fear. His pristine, perfect girlfriend, his sunshine and light and sweet-smelling Penelope, was now--

Faulted.

_My meeting. Responsibilities. No time for this._

Percy finally turned his head away from the couple. His body was coated with sweat and yet he shivered from cold, trying desperately to stop his teeth from chattering lest he be heard.

Slowly he brought two fingers to his forehead and examined the warm, red liquid on his fingertips.

_I'm bleeding. _

Go. Now.

Percy rolled to his side and set his back almost painfully rigid as he forced his legs to bend, then rolling himself onto his knees until he made contact with the banister. He held back a cry from the tensions of the fall and the after shock, and suddenly he didn't care about being the stoic good boyfriend.

He scrambled to collect his books, not looking over his shoulder as he raced away.

_Good-bye divine intervention._ It'd been a fluke, he'd always suspected. A girl – an actual beautiful girl that wanted to be with him. Him! A young man that, as a boy, believed he'd never be privy to such beauty and security at any age-- _and it was Check Mark, Weasley! Time to move on now, to the academic and the Ministry and the white picket fence and wee-redheads._ Oh yes, it'd be all as the good Merlin intended him to live, and _thankyouverymuch_ for playing the game of life cause – he's already won!

Percy's feet weren't fast enough – he fumbled down the corridor and three more flights of stairs before he realized he had somehow found his way to Dumbledore's office. He yelled out the password and the staircase was revealed, and he hurried up as fast as he could.

Because duty was his alone, involving things that truly mattered to him. Or that mattered to others. _It's not dealing with Penelope or ignorant professors or stupid friends keeping stupid childish secrets-- _

Percy stopped walking, pausing in front of Dumbledore's office door.

Heavy chains seemed to have formed around him as he'd walked, and now they weighed him down. He was tired and numb, he didn't want to care or think or feel or anything.

It was all too much, too soon. His girlfriend, his reputation and Oliver…

He backed up, steadying himself against a wall. Vaguely, he could see two shadowed figures in the frosted glass but he was too far-gone in shock to cry out for help as he collapsed to the floor.

* * *

Despite his somewhat impulsive nature, Oliver had always known Dave to be a good listener. And so he was this evening, as quiet and thoughtful, as Oliver knew he could be at times, listening carefully as he relayed his meeting with the faculty and current _(marital)_ woes with Percy. "You're an arse." 

"I'm a what?" Oliver blinked at him, surprised.

"_ARSE_, Oliver. You're an arse, and that was a shitty thing to do, keeping this whole mess from Percy." Dave's tone was quiet and sharp. "What were you thinking, anyways? You were with him almost _the entire day!_"

Oliver stood, glaring down at him. ""How was I suppose to tell him, Dave? 'Perce, I know you've a bit on your mind right now, with the assignment and your own duties but whatdoyaknow, turns out we're married, and…' "

"And what, Oliver?" Dave exploded, standing also. He held out his arms, palms up, and altogether looked very imposing to Oliver despite his modest 5'7" height. "Percy finding out tomorrow, that would make things better? Allowing him to wander around the school without giving him a heads-up, and-- Merlin! He's at Dumbledore's right now, we've got to tell him before he gets tied up in the lounge with--"

"No!" Oliver interrupted, grabbing his sleeve. "You can't tell him!"

"Are you going to tell him?"

"No!" _Well, that makes sense, Wood._

Oliver backed up a few steps, biting the bottom of his lip. He knew he sounded childish, that Percy would have to be told the truth. But it still seemed too otherworldly to him.

A strange calm came over him. _After all, is it really that much of a big deal?_

"You're not telling Percy?" Dave's eyed him suspiciously.

_Well…_ "No."

"And would you care to elaborate on why?"

Flinching under Dave's stare, Oliver began to pace. After a few steps, he began to hit the back of his hand in a sort of backwards clap. "It's complicated, Dave. Look, I told him we have to talk. But he's a lot on his mind right now and I don't think he could handle this news." The scene of his argument with Percy flashed forefront in his mind. He took a quiet breath through his mouth and let it out slowly, but continued pacing. "I just can't seem to make heads-or-tails of anything anymore."

_That's an understatement._

"You're tired," Dave said simply, crossing his arms. "And you're stressed, I get that. But what you're doing, Ol, is barmy."

Oliver stopped and gave him a look, crossing his arms as well.

His lax stance propelled Dave into full gear. "Why _wouldn't_ you tell Percy? Oliver, marriages in the wizarding world are serious. You're not an idiot! There are reasons why people don't go off and get married. And there are reasons why people don't get married at _seventeen_! What happens if Perce finds out first, eh? What happens if it's leaked before you've a chance to prepare him? Merlin! Oliver, if this is what you call friendship, then you can--"

"I can what?" Oliver spat back. "Then you're going to-- _Oomph!_"

_What the--_

Dave had lunged at him, wrapping his arms around Oliver's head and holding him down in a headlock. The newly healed bruises from his confrontation with the Slytherins began to ache again from the sudden movement.

_Damn!_ "Get off me, Sharp. I've a game tomorrow!"

"Oliver, I swear to all things Merlin, I'll--"

Oliver kicked Dave's leg hard, sending the smaller man to the ground, clutching his leg and staring back at him in disbelief.

Oliver rolled his neck to release the tension before holding out a hand to Dave to help him up. He tried to match Dave's hard stare – trying at least, to put on his game face. But everything sounded a lot worse coming from Dave and he couldn't form an excuse for his past actions. Even he couldn't explain what he'd been thinking, keeping this secret from Percy. Except perhaps--

"I suppose I was expecting the situation to correct itself," he finally muttered, only just arriving at such a realization. He rolled his shoulders, hoping the tension wouldn't mount in his shoulders and contribute to the bruising he'd already put his body through today. "It always seems to work out with him, doesn't it?"

"Well, that's just brilliant reasoning on your part." Dave was holding the back of his neck, watching him with dark blue eyes.

_Don't walk out of that door. Don't leave me to figure out things by myself._

The continued intensity of his stare was all Oliver needed to see the disappointment he'd produced in his normally jovial friend, and he remained silent, unsure of what he could say that would relieve Dave of the burden he shouldn't have mentioned in the first place.

Dave slowly shook his head and blinked his eyes at Oliver, sorting himself out of what appeared to be a deep reflection. He walked up to Oliver, this time placing his hands gently on his shoulders and squeezing tightly, as though in a reaffirmation of their friendship.

"I'll help you tell him. Now," he whispered, drawing Oliver into a quick hug.

A wave of gratitude passed over Oliver, and he found himself reaching for strength to remain standing, not to give into the weakness in his knees or the overwhelming sensation Dave's hug sent straight to his heart, feeling every burden unleashed with his confession and now this acceptance.

_And perhaps with such a good friend as Dave, he'd understand that…_ Oliver stepped back, opening his mouth to say something but his breath only hitched.

"There's more," he finally whispered. "It's about Percy and myself. We-- I…" He passed a hand over his eyes wearily. _Come on, Dave. Guess it all. Make everything easy for once._

"What about you and Perce?"

_Breathe._

"I've been doing some thinking lately. About us. And I think…" _Go on, you've gotten this far._ "I think that our friendship is different now."

"Different? Because of the argument?"

"No, Dave," Oliver said with obvious patience. "Different because… Because I think our friendship has _kind of_ turned… er-- evolved, into something more." He looked at the floor.

"Like what?" Dave asked, his blunt question causing Oliver to raise his head. Dave's face was twisted in confusion, and his hair was standing just as wild and crazy as Percy's did at times. As some point, he'd ripped open his robes and unraveled his tie.

_It's not too late to take it all back._

"Oliver. Are you…" Dave broke through his thoughts but hesitated, appearing to sort through some internal conflict. Finally he managed, incredulously: "Do you have feelings for Percy?"

The Ravenclaw didn't wait for an answer, instead backing away and treading a small path in front of the bed. Before Oliver could open his mouth, he ordered, "Sit down and don't move! You're not leaving here until we deal with this!"

Oliver sat down on the edge of Percy's bed, leaning forward, his palms running up and down his thighs.

Dave threw him a look of disgust.

* * *

Percy was flattened against the cold stone, trying to focus his eyes on the headmaster's door. At some point his lenses seemed to change prescription, and the world appeared more bright and clear to him now. He was certain he could see every speck of dirt on the floor in front of him, every paint stroke that went awry on the walls, every nick in Dumbledore's door. 

_It's all very dizzying, really._ He remained on the floor silent, trying to regain some composure before he chanced standing up. Mental composure, he thought, though he was growing increasingly aware of his physical ailments. His head was still pounding after finding Penelope and Adam together, though he thought that perhaps his fight with Oliver was also contributing. His bones ached from his falls, and his stomach growled in reminder of the missed meal.

_Why did I even take Plum's class this term? I could have gotten out of it, I'm sure. Talk Dumbledore into some self-study nonsense that would – at least – be useful after graduation._

As he attempted to crawl his way to the door, voices drifted out at him. Voices that, he supposed, were present earlier but that he'd only just now had the sense of mind to hear them.

"Albus, don't you turn away from me. I've only just started with you!"

"Dear, watch your pressure! Albus, why aren't you answering us?"

The strained squeak of a dragging chair came to Percy, and now he focused all his attention on what was occurring behind the closed doorway.

"If you'll only hear me out, I'm certain we can--"

"What are you trying to prove? He's seventeen! He's a seventeen-year old _boy_. My son. Do you even remember being that age? Hell, were you ever that young?"

Dumbledore chuckled. "Of course, I--"

Glass shattered.

_The headmaster!_

Percy winced as yelling voices came together, making the conversation now inaudible to an eavesdropper. He knew he should draw himself back onto his feet, to break into that office and sort things out. But still raw with hurt and a growing rage over the afternoon's events, he couldn't bring himself to care.

"I already explained--"

"And I've already explained that you're not here to parent my child. Damn it!"

"Dear, why don't we go sit over--"

Objects _(sounds like books)_ were being broken and tossed against a wall, shaking the floor.

"Well, aren't you going to do anything about this?"

"I want this fixed, Albus. You've no right to do this to him!"

"Molly, Arthur. Percy is coming into his own as a young man. He can take care of himself. It's nothing for you to worry yourself over, my friend. We're getting to the bottom of things."

_Mom? Dad? Those voices… My parents are yelling at the headmaster? About me?_

"Where's Plum? Why isn't he here, Albus?"

"Look, it's already known around the Ministry. How is he – How are they going to get through this when it becomes public tomorrow morning? Albus, I want to speak with Percy and Oliver now. They have to come up with some sort of plan. They have to know that this was a fluke of some kind, and that we're trying our best to set things right again."

_Set things right? What's gone wrong?_ Percy remembered Plum's uncooperative attitude towards him in class. He fought the sudden nausea that came over him, anticipating what would be said next.

"Molly, just put down those books and come over here. Let's rationalize the situation. Since Plum alerted us yesterday, we've done everything in our power to ensure that the magical world has remained uninterrupted by this marriage. Percy and Oliver have a strong friendship, as any of our professors will tell you. They have been suitably paired in marriage, and we've been quite fortunate that this sort of mischief was confined to such well-adjusted young men."

_Marriage?_ Percy leaned back on his elbows, staring at the door in disbelief.

_Marriage? Oliver and… He can't mean that I'm… That we're…_

"Don't give me that, Albus! I want them in here right now! I want to--"

"Molly, please! Listen to what I'm saying. Percy and Oliver will handle this situation fine. The matter to be concerned about here is how we react to their pairing. As long as their friendship – no, this bonding remains stable, there will be no affects on our world. But how do you think they would react if you were to speak to them now, in your state? The potential for disaster is much broader than any teasing by their peers."

_Then… It's true? We are… Married?_

"I'm not saying it won't be difficult for them," the headmaster continued. "But they'll adjust. No, our job is to ensure that they accept this change with as little damage to the bond."

"Low-key," a defeated Arthur's muffled voice came through the door.

"Low-key. That's why we chose to single out Oliver this morning, to tell Percy the news. He's known him longer than anyone at this school."

"How did he handle the news?"

"Oliver was… shocked, just as we all were. But as long as one of them remains calm and centered while the other is given this information, we should see no adverse affects."

"And he told Percy?"

A pause. "I think so. Yes."

_No! No he didn't!_ Percy wanted to yell at the door.

He was… _Married. There was something wrong with those charms yesterday. Somehow, Plum performed a real marriage bond on us. And now everyone's upset…_ He tried to recall some of the conversation he'd overheard. _Because our bond wasn't approved. Because we're young and we're not in love, and such a bonding could seriously disrupt the other wizards._

_And Oliver knew. All day, Oliver knew that we were married, and he never said a word to me._ Percy's mind was trying to grapple at the flood of questions that came at him. _Dumbledore couldn't have told him everything. He's been pushing me away all day instead of trying to tell me. If he knew what could go wrong with us, he would have told me immediately that we were…_

_Married. Can it be?_ The feeling of cold, bitter liquid filled Percy's heart. Oliver had known they were married since that morning, and chose to close himself off. _He'd rather sacrifice our magic than be with me._

Percy rolled his neck. His clothing felt too tight but there was nothing left for him to loosen. _He wanted me to find out tomorrow morning, with the rest of the students. Is he ashamed? Does he want to… mock me, in front of everyone?_

He laid his chin on his chest, staring at the floor. In the muddle of the evening's events, Oliver had gone from being his best friend to his worst nemesis, even including Adam Jones.

His mind fought to maintain some semblance of composure, still working through the conversation.

_Didn't Dumbledore say there's been no effect from the bonding so far? How can that be? We just had a huge fight that's been building all afternoon. Certainly something's off there._

"I'm… sorry. Truly I am, Albus. I didn't mean to--"

"That's nothing. I understand your frustration. Leave that mess right there, I'll get that cleaned up later on."

A heavy sigh. "We know that this matter has to be handled delicately, and that you're overseeing things here. The boys are taken care of."

"That they are, Arthur. Soon this will only be a memory." A throat cleared. "Lemon drop?"

Percy felt his hands grow heated, the sensation spreading up his arms and into his body, propelling him to stand. He was surprised to find he felt tall and energetic. He scowled at the headmaster's door. And in a quick gesture, tore his head boy's badge from his robe. He tossed the badge over his shoulders, walking down the staircase mindless of his aches.

He didn't look back.

* * *

In the Gryffindor dormitory, Oliver watched with detached disinterest as Dave tried his best to comprehend his recent confession. He sat on the bed as his friend paced, mumbling to himself and occasionally throwing scowls his way. 

_Go ahead, Dave. Give me all you can, I deserve it._

But Dave wasn't about to oblige his silent wishes, instead sitting down on the bed next to him and placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Percy's a great mate. You know I love him like a brother. Not that he needs another one."

_There's a 'but' coming._ He wouldn't look at Dave.

Dave continued in an uncharacteristically soft voice. "Percy has a gentleness to him that few people seem to understand. He's sensitive in nature, but he's also passionate. He's a great guy. It's not hard for me to understand why you… think you're feeling a certain way about him."

"But I don't--"

Dave's grip tightened. "_Listen_ to me. You want to take care of him. And you've been placed in a role where you're given the opportunity to justify caring for him. He's--"

Oliver shrugged his shoulders, ridding himself of Dave's grip. He stood. "I know Percy can take care of himself."

"Really, Ol? And this little song and dance you've been doing since you found out about the news, what has that been? How about hiding those injuries from the Slytherin team, hmm? Treating him like a second-rate friend, rather than the guy you've roomed with for over six years?"

_That's it, keep yelling._ "It's not as black-and-white as that!"

"Oh, I do think things can be just that clear. In fact, I think your little crush might just be a mask. You want to be alone. Oliver, face it," Dave's was gesturing with his hands. "You've a crush that you can never be with. Heaven forbid the kingly Oliver Wood lowers himself to asking out the common man!"

"Now, just you hang--"

"This convenient crush also happens to be the man you know better than anyone else, that you see all the time. What better way to reinforce your pity trip? To have your unattainable guy sitting right in front of you, sleeping right beside you, all the time?"

Oliver spoke through clenched teeth, "I hardly see Perce that much when--"

"And, since you've a crush on this man – a man that, by the way, you're MARRIED to, that gives you the right to rule his life. To keep secrets from him when you see fit. Boyfriend of the Year, right here." Dave turned his head quickly, his face full of disgust.

Oliver watched him, trying to ignore the pieces of himself he felt shatter inside. He felt hollow and empty, as though the world didn't make sense to him anymore. And he wondered how it was that he could have ever felt so different at a time, when hope of a _something_ seemed to balance out the bad. And now –

The scale dipped. _Dave's right._ How would things work themselves out? How could there be a possible future for their friendship after he's mucked everything up so badly? It was a perception he inherently knew would never change, and it was one that he didn't want to live through.

_I am an arse. I deserve every wrong the world throws at me._

Dave walked over to the window, staring outside. "What the hell were the professors thinking, getting you to tell him? There's something not right about this whole business."

He turned quickly, catching Oliver's eye. "You're going to tell him. Now. Or I'm going to do it, and that won't go over well in my current temperament."

Oliver just looked at him, numbed.

Dave ran a stressed hand through his hair. "You have to let this idea go. Tell me, Ol. How many guys have you been with?"

Oliver felt his face heat up with a blush, and he turned his head away.

"Yeah, thought so," Dave muttered. He walked to Oliver, bringing a hand to his shoulder. "Did you ever think that maybe you're just lonely?"

_Lonely?_ A wave of hurt came over Oliver. He was too emotionally drained to even consider arguing the question. And there was something familiar about that word. _It was only an hour ago I asked Percy if he was lonely._ His stomach sunk, remembering the argument that followed.

Oliver nodded at Dave. _He's right. Let it go._

Dave matched his nod with a sad smile. "All right. We'll deal with this some other time, all right? Priorities first. We have to tell Percy. He'll be at the lounge by now. And you've a big game to get set for tomorrow. Get your books, all right?"

_All right._ Oliver tried to quell the tears that threatened to emerge as he grabbed a stack of schoolbooks and playbooks and other papers he didn't notice, tucking them under his arms. _Buck up. Deal with this. Be strong. Follow Dave. _

Get over this. And don't cry.

He started to walk out the door when Dave turned around, his face red. "Oliver? Man, I'm sorry. It's just… We can't fool around with this sort of thing."

His arms full of his own books, he managed an awkward crushing hug.

"I know," Oliver muffled into Dave's cloak. "I understand." He took a deep shaky breath, letting go to give him (what he'd hoped to be) a reassuringly smile. "Arse that I am."

Dave exhaled, his features dissolving into a wicked grin. "Got a couple Sickles on that game tomorrow, anyways." He gave Oliver's shoulder a light punch with his free hand before walking briskly past him.

The mood had lifted like a muggle light bulb turning off, Oliver reflected as he focused on Dave's disappearing form, racing behind him. They'd returned to boyhood as they ran down the corridor and towards the prefect's lounge. And then--

_Dave will handle things._

Oliver focused on Dave's words, knowing that his advice was sound. _It's for the best,_ he repeated.

* * *

Percy didn't remember the walk from Dumbledore's office to the Gryffindor dormitory. He was certain he didn't set out for his room, though he also knew there wasn't any other place he wanted to be. The only thing he was certain about was that he needed to keep moving, as though his feet could carry him faster than the time it would take his problems to find him. 

Upon reaching the dormitory, he barely glanced around the room as he walked over to his chest, dumping his books inside. He slammed it with such force that it echoed throughout the dormitory, he was sure, but also gave him an ache in his shoulder. His stomach growled.

He sat roughly on his bed and folded his arms, reflecting on the days' events. _I'm married. I'm married to Oliver Wood, who is so embarrassed at being involved with me that he doesn't want anything to do with me. That he'd rather everyone's magic suffer than be with me._

He rubbed his hands over his eyes. _It just doesn't make any sense. Why would he keep everything from me? Why wouldn't he have--_

_Is that my… desk? Oh, good Merlin!_ Stunned, Percy remained on the bed, blinking through his fingers at the mess in the corner. _That… That mess can't be mine!_

_What now? Wasn't today enough? That now I have to come back to my room and find my desk split in two?_ It wasn't some random prank, he knew, his eyes catching the desk items rearranged neatly on the parts that still stood.

_It was Oliver._

And he knew way. _He can't handle being with me. He doesn't want anything to do with me._

He drew his knees up to his chest and rested his forehead on them, feeling the tension that had gathered in his neck. Penelope and Adam forgotten, and his head boy's badge far removed from his thoughts, he focused only on the one person that he'd considered to be his closest friend. The one person whom, he thought, would have never wronged him.

_Except for now._

He felt the rush of emotions ball up in his throw, and he finally allowed the tears to fall from his eyes.

_I'm done._

* * *

"Where's Percy?" 

Oliver heard Dave's question as he entered the lounge behind him, surveying the groups of prefects that had gathered in house clusters around the room. He remained in the doorway, watching as Dave drew their attention to his presence.

"Anyone know?" He questioned, looking at each person in the group, as though they were personally at fault for not knowing his whereabouts. It occurred to Oliver that Dave's height incurred no prejudice, and that he could be just as intimidating off the Quidditch field.

Penelope walked forward with Adam closely behind. Her hair was ruffled but her cheeks were flushed. "I haven't seen him," she said flatly, looking directly at Dave and (it appeared to him) avoiding Oliver's gaze. "You just missed Fred and George. They said they're going to try to find him."

Weary from the day's events, Oliver's still managed to bite his tongue and not give in to the urge to voice his thoughts. _Why haven't you seen him? That's what he said about you – that you wouldn't give him the time of day. And why not? Can't you see that you've been hurting him?_

Oliver tried to ignore the voice in his head that reminded him he was just as guilty as Penelope for not knowing where Percy was.

"You know Percy," she chuckled, looking over her shoulder at Adam and giving him a knowing smile. "Probably realized that he'd forgotten to dot an 'i' on his last essay scroll."

_What's gotten into her?_ Oliver gripped his books tighter, shifting his gaze from Penelope to Adam and glaring. But he was met with a dead stare that seemed as though he were challenging Oliver to make a move.

_Mr. Personality._

Just then, a sharp _something_ poked him in the back and Oliver jumped.

"Shit!" He turned quickly to see a tired Karen, giving him a small smile.

"Sorry about that, Ol," she said sheepishly, holding up her pen. "I suppose we're crashing the prefects party tonight, eh?"

"Merlin" Penelope muttered under her breath, turning away from the group with Adam.

Karen's face flashed with a brief grimace, though she recovered quickly, looking back at Oliver and shrugging slightly. He tried to give her a reassuring smile but she broke away from his gaze, looking down at the floor and shifting her feet.

_She's a lot on her mind too_, he thought, remembering the day's events in Plum's class and the vial with the dark blue cloud. _I can't leave all my problems on Dave. It's not fair for their relationship. _

Dave had moved on to a group of Slytherin prefects, appearing (to Oliver) to be issuing patrolling chores for the evening.

_Where's Percy?_

Oliver noticed some pairs of prefects looking his way and, remembering he was still in the doorway _(on their turf)_, he said to Karen, "Corner table?"

"Sounds good to me."

He led her to a small table, where they laid out their books and papers and seated themselves in comfortably, ready for a night that promised to call on their patience.

"Think they'll be here long?" Oliver asked.

Karen was staring at the table but looked up to answer. "Nah. Like Dave says, there's always someone eager to fill in for night patrolling around here, especially fifth years."

Oliver nodded, too drained to continue small talk. _Where's Percy?_

"You got along all right this morning?" Karen asked cautiously, her weary eyes now focused on Oliver. "When McGonagall called you out of class?"

Oliver took a deep breath and nodded slightly, giving her a curt smile. "Well, 'got along' is one way to put things. There's a bit of a story to things, but I think Dave'll fill you in later on." _Don't-ask-don't-ask-don't-ask!_

To his relief, she only nodded and looked away, watching as Dave held a clipboard and motioned to it with his wand. Some prefects had left the room, already sent on their rounds.

As Oliver watched, Penelope and Adam walked up to him. "You should probably wait for Percy to arrive before you finish delving out the evening's responsibilities. You know how he gets."

Oliver could hear Dave sigh heavily. "I'm almost through with things here."

"You?" Penny said, exchanging another smirk with Adam.

"I've done this before. It's not a problem, Pen" Dave said quietly. He looked across the room at Oliver and gave him a look, though his expression noticeably softened when he noticed Karen next to him.

And then Oliver realized that Karen had refocused her attention back on the table, her brow furrowed in deep concentration.

_Something's wrong. It's worse than I thought. _

And where's Percy? If I can straighten out what's wrong with us, then maybe we can help Dave and Karen.

Dave had turned away from Penny and Adam, now (apparently) refereeing a disagreement between two Hufflepuffs.

Oliver tapped his fingers on the desk, watching him._ Percy lives for this stuff, why isn't he here? _

To Be Continued


	9. 

I hope the last few parts weren't too confusing - I only just noticed that the page breaks didn't go through! Many thanks to Tanya (or LJ user **arcanefairy**) for the great beta, as always, and to everyone for the comments :)

Chapter 9 

"Oh boy…"

"George?"

"Fred! Come look at this!"

"Wow! Percy's desk finally self-destructed."

"Just waiting to happen, I suppose."

_Oh, just get out! _Percy lifted his head off his knees and looked at his brothers standing at the edge of his bed. Despite their jesting words, they were looking at him kindly, and belatedly he wondered if his eyes weren't still red from crying.

"You're not feeling well, Perce?" Fred asked hesitantly, exchanging a look with George.

Percy looked around the room, anywhere but at his brothers, and answered in a very tired voice, "Not really, Fred."

"What happened to your desk?"

"Oliver," Percy answered simply, quickly realizing that he didn't have to fabricate a complete lie to make his excuse unbelievable. Oliver could be a destructive goofball, given the circumstances and company.

The twins nodded, accepting the answer without hesitation.

"Well," George started, looking at Fred again as though for permission to continue. "We were looking for you. Ran into McGonagall earlier, she said you'd lost this."

He held out the head boy's badge.

Percy stared. _Dumbledore must have known I was there. Lost. Right. Just throw it in the bin on your way out, boys._

"We thought it might be a fake," Fred gave a light laugh. "Couldn't have been fake, though. Wasn't one of ours, was it George?"

George grinned. "So we started to think that you've been kidnapped. How are you able to breathe without this thing, anyways?"

Percy rolled his eyes. _I'll get rid of it myself. _"Thanks for dropping it off."

"No problem."

"Actually, we had originally tried to find you at the prefects' lounge. Penelope was the one who asked where you were. She was also wondering about Dave, he hadn't shown up."

_Of course he's with Oliver. They're probably trying to figure out a way to save his reputation after this whole marriage scandal erupts tomorrow. _It wasn't a fair thought, Percy knew, but he wasn't in the mood to be particularly fair-minded.

He tried to maintain the appearance of composure as he continued to look at the badge held out to him. He wanted to tell his brothers that they could go blow it up for all he cared, that he was ready to leave the 'old' Percy behind and start anew with his life.

But as the light reflected off the gold in his badge, he couldn't bring himself to voice the words. _After all, what would I do? I can't run away. I'm almost out of Hogwarts, anyways. _

"I appreciate you both coming here," he forced himself to say, reaching for the badge. "I'm just not feeling the best, and… And Dave will carry on with my duties tonight."

_Well, that's not a complete lie. I'm certain he'll take over when I don't show up. And I don't want to get caught up into things with my brothers tonight._

Fred and George looked at each other once more before nodding in unison at him. They each held eager, mischievous smiles, and didn't bother to question his reasons for staying away from the lounge.

"No problem. Night, Perce."

"Night, Perce. Hope you feel better tomorrow, all right? Later."

Percy waved them on, settling back onto the cushions.

"I couldn't care less what you two get into tonight," he muttered, knowing full well that the twins would probably use his absence to unleash one of their more daring pranks.

* * *

Karen made a 'humph' sound. 

Oliver looked up from his playbooks, watching as she creased and flattened the edges of her parchment with tense fingers. Her eyes flashed over the desk in front of her but, he could see, they were cloudy and small, appearing to be concentrated in her own worries rather than the work in front of her.

_Join the team, _he thought, unsure of what to say to her, if anything. He was emotionally spent and, considering the problems he was trying to sort out with Percy, everything else appeared to pale in comparison.

She looked up and caught him staring at her, and she gave him a nervous smile before going back to her work.

_Merlin, she's having a time of things…_

He scolded himself for treating her like anything less than his friend, shoving his playbooks to the side and propping himself forward on his elbows. He waited for her to look up and acknowledge him, watching her face closely. Her eyes were red and sunken in and, he only just noticed, she seemed to have paled.

But the biggest change was in her personality – _or rather, lack of it, _Oliver thought grimly. Where was the witty, energetic and no-holds-barred girl that tried to make the most of any situation?

_Have to be, dating Dave._ He looked up, noticing that the Ravenclaw prefect was still chatting to his peers, holding Percy's clipboard. Penelope and Adam stood in the corner, watching him and the door closely. _Probably waiting for Percy… Merlin, where is he?_

Oliver only watched Karen for another few seconds before couldn't hold out any longer. "Karen, I hope you don't mind me asking… I mean, it's none of my business, sure, but--"

"Oliver?" she said quietly, raising her eyebrows, encouraging him to continue.

"Right. It's just… I couldn't help but notice that you've some things on your mind tonight. Today. Rather… It's just, I know everyone's a little off. But Plum's class, and the blue cloud, I was just wondering if--"

She gave him a brief glance and a tight smile before lowering her eyes back to the surface on the desk. She gripped the parchment corners tighter. "I'm fine, really. Just, you know. End-of-term and all that."

_Oh. Well, if she says things are all right… _He nodded. "Well, if you ever need someone to--"

"Thank you," she answered quickly, busying herself now with uncapping her quill. "I really appreciate that. You're a good friend."

"As long as you're--"

"I'm great. Just a little tired. But fine, really." She gave him another tight smile and turned back to her work.

But this time her expression couldn't be hidden, and Oliver realized that he was fed up with being pacified or lied to.

"No, you're not," he said, surprising himself by pushing through his own hesitancy. "You aren't fine at all. And unless you've a problem with me, then I'm a willing listener. And a pretty good talker at that."

She gave him a look that, Oliver thought, on anyone else would have been accompanied by a rolling of the eyes.

"Karen, I'm going through my own stuff right now," Oliver said through gritted teeth. He grabbed her wrist and tightened his fingers around it, urging her to return his look. "But I'm not going to let you treat me like a second rate friend. Just between us. What's going on?"

Karen looked at him cautiously before she lowered her gaze again and heaved deeply. She put her hands over her face and whispered hoarsely, "It's… It's complicated, Oliver."

He remained silent, waiting.

After a few moments in which she appeared to compose herself and gather her thoughts, she peered at him between her fingers and said in a desperate hiss, "I just don't know what to do. There is no place for me. I hardly belong here; how am I supposed to find that security after school? I am just _so scared_."

Oliver took her hands away from her tear-stained face, holding them gently in his grasp. _Gently!_ She looked at him wide-eyed, almost manic, as he leaned closer to her, placing a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

"Oh, Karen," he muttered, smiling softly, closing his eyes and leaning forward until their foreheads touched. "Don't you see? We're all in the same boat here."

She made another 'humph' sound.

He pressed on gently, their foreheads still touching. "What am I going to do if I get injured? What if Percy isn't accepted in the Ministry?" He tried to ignore his own concerns that arose with the mention of Percy's name. "And what is Dave going to do after his own academic plans? We're all in this together. And everyone goes through this. We just have to take life one day at a time, and not get too far ahead of ourselves. Who knows what tomorrow will bring?"

Though he meant his words as comfort, he was suddenly reminded of just what exactly tomorrow had promised to bring to him and Percy.

_No, I can't think about that right now. Be a good friend._

"I want to_ do _something well, Oliver!" As Karen spoke, she leaned back away, watching him. "I don't want to leave this school as _Karen George_. You're off for Quidditch. Dave's already talking about going to America, settling into a lifetime of academia. And Percy leaves for the ministry right after graduation."

_That's right. The day after graduation, most probably. _Oliver's stomached tightened into knots; yet he forced himself to remain focused on Karen's words as she continued: "And then there's me. I don't mean to be selfish but-- Why was I left out of this _certainty _that life so generously granted you three? Why must I be so equally incompetent at all things? Nothing is calling to me, Oliver, and I'm just so scared that…" She stared at the table's surface, her face reddened though, Oliver suspected, more so from embarrassment over voicing her true emotions than anything else.

Forgetting his own worries, Oliver gently wrapped his hand around her clenched fingers, prying them apart. His heart immediately felt the weight of her emotions, as the words were spoken by a young women who always seemed to carry herself with the happiness and confidence that is so rarely granted to the young. "Karen, I had no idea you felt this way. If only we'd known… That you knew so little about yourself."

She looked up at him sharply. He gave her a soft smile, squeezing her fingers.

"Nothing is ever easy. No path ever certain," Oliver's mind flashed back to Percy's comforting words the night before, words that he'd repeated to himself dozens of times since. "We can only deal with what--"

She pulled her fingers away. "No, you're not getting it."

With a quick glance around the room to make sure they weren't drawing attention to themselves, Oliver scooted his chair even closer to Karen. She collapsed against him, sobbing without sound, and he struggled to hold her close without losing his grip. And just when he thought he might have been holding her too tightly, he felt her head shake, her hair tickling his neck, her fingers worming their way around his waist. She shook and shook and shook until finally--

She pushed him away hard. "No, Oliver! I appreciate what you're trying to do but it's not the same thing! Don't you get it? You guys will always have something to fall back on. You three know _exactly _what you're good at. And if one door closes, you'll just create another right away. I know that, I've seen you three do that. And I… Dave and I…"

She faltered, staring past Oliver's shoulder. He took the opportunity to seize her shoulders firmly, not minding that she was so much smaller than he.

"What about Dave?" he whispered into her ear as she calmed.

He could feel her hot breath on his ear. "Dave is brilliant. He has a million different interests and hobbies. He'll get along fine."

"That's not what I was asking."

She swallowed hard. "Dave is typical Ravenclaw. Why, I don't think I've ever seen him study for an examination. A twelve-foot parchment takes him less than two hours to complete! But I'm at the bottom of the House. I can study for twelve hours. Dave helps me, and I'm still dense as a doorknob."

"You get better marks than I do," Oliver said lightly. _This is unusual. Maybe not for the other girls our year, but especially for Karen._

"Better marks than average, yes. But I'm so far down the Ravenclaw average that it's almost an embarrassment to be from this house. And Dave," she breathed out his name, looking over Oliver's shoulder. "Sometimes… I don't know…"

"What?"

"Sometimes, I wonder… Oliver, I don't think we're in things for the long haul. I'm not like the--"

"He loves you," Oliver pressed, anxiety growing in his stomach. _What the hell is this?_

"Yes, I'm… I love him, too." She cleared her throat gently, still looking over Oliver's shoulder. "But, the novelty of it all, of us being together, I can't help but--"

"I can't believe you'd think so lowly of him," Oliver gently admonished, trying to stop Karen's line of thinking.

She bit her bottom lip, squirming in her seat. "Sometimes it feels like Mr. Perfect dating little Miss Plain Jane, completing the circle of high school cliché. He's not--"

"Don't give me that self-pity or--" Oliver wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand.

"Pity? _Pity_? Oliver, it's life."

Though her facial expression stayed calm and sad, slow tears ran down from her eyes. As she started to speak once more, she couldn't get past a stutter.

_Oh no…_

"Karen, calm down! Listen to me. Listen!" Oliver gripped her shoulders tighter, struggling to find the right words to say. "This here… It's a panic attack. Look, we all have them. It seems like everything's building up. Since the start of this damned assignment. Come here."

He drew her into a tight hug, unmindful of the pressure he enveloped her in. He pressed his cheek against her hair and rocked her gently back and forth, her sobs finally ceasing. She was deadweight against him. He whispered, over and over: "It's all right. _Shhhhh._ I know I can't make things better for you right now. Merlin, I wish I could. But I'm here for you. We _all _are. Don't forget that, Karen."

A throat cleared loudly. _Dave. _"Am I interrupting?"

Oliver felt a sharp, pointed finger tap his shoulder and, still holding Karen, he turned around. Though Dave's words were spoken lightly, the glare he received was enough to make him let go of her immediately, turning pink (and looking somewhat guiltily) at the sudden appearance.

Dave himself jolted at the appearance of Karen's red face when Oliver let go. He remained silent for a few moments, looking back and forth at them. He crossed his arms, walking a few paces closer to Karen and turned to face Oliver. And then hissed, "What the hell is going on here? Oliver, what did you say to--"

"_Nothing_!" Karen said quickly, straightening her back. Her tone allowed no questions to be asked. She addressed Oliver "Thanks. But would you mind if Dave and I spoke for a minute? Alone?"

That 'alone' wasn't to be questioned, Oliver knew. Though his limbs felt deadweight, he forced himself to stand. He couldn't bring himself to look at Dave. _Don't-break-up-don't-break-up-don't-break-up._

He walked to the other side of the room, trying to watch everything else that was occurring instead the drama involving his best friends. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew Percy should have arrived by now. _And where the hell is he?_

Oliver tried to focus on the room. _There's Miles and Brock and –oh, there's Penny still with Adam. Merlin, look at that girl. Class-less. There's Peter's, he's… Oh, shod it. _Oliver gave up trying to look for distractions, looking back at Karen and Dave.

But Karen was nowhere to be seen. The table was cleared of her books, and only Dave now stood in place, his cheeks drawn in. He was staring back at Oliver, thoughtfully.

Unsettled, Oliver began to walk back to the other side of the room. His ears tuned back into the present conversation and he soon realized that, unlike him, the other prefects noticed Karen's quick getaway and were directing their attention on him.

"Troubles, Dave?"

"Always the sweet talker, huh?"

"It's to be expected. Most marriages now end in divorce, they say."

"Finally said one too many words she couldn't understand, Dave?"

Penelope was grinning madly, having uttered the final and most biting comment, and she stood proudly next to Adam, who matched her grin.

Oliver gawked at her. _She didn't just say--_

Adam stepped closer to Dave, leading Penelope with him. "Karen getting tired of sharing you with Percy and Oliver, huh?"

_Well, what do you know? He speaks._

With an unreadable expression, Dave began to slowly walk towards the couple. Adam drew a protective arm around Penny's neck, and Oliver got a nervous feeling in his stomach.

A rare expression of stoic resolve had come over Dave's face. Oliver knew what was coming before Adam even finished the sentence and, faster than he could dash across the room to stop him, Dave's fisted hand hit Adam squarely in the mouth.

**THUD!**

The Ravenclaw seeker tripped backwards, suddenly flattened on the ground and holding his jaw, moaning and sobbing and writhing with pain. Penelope cried out, her own hands fisted as she frantically looked around the room for some type of authority to step in and save her partner.

_Interesting that the 'authority' she's looking for is the head boy, _Oliver's mind registered, though he was numb at the events before him.

The prefects stood around silent, frozen with the realization that one of their own proved capable of such primitive barbaric actions that were supposed to be confined to 'those other students' without the badge.

Dave wasn't finished, Oliver knew, but just as the young blond-haired man was about to have another go, Oliver'd snapped out of his numbness, crossed the room, held his friends' hands down and dragged him away from the beaten man.

In a gruff voice, he managed, "Dave, what the hell do you think--"

Dave shoved his hands aside, a foreign rage reflected in his eyes that shocked him into silence. After a moment, he returned in a sarcastic voice, "Obviously, _not thinking_ is the theme of the day, isn't it Oliver?" He turned to the other prefects, now huddled over Adam.

Everyone looked at this seventh-year (usually) passive Ravenclaw in awe and trepidation, unsure of what actions should be taken to one of their own senior ranks; before they could speak, however, he cocked his head and said authoritatively, "Clean up this damn mess, will you?"

Dave flicked the collar of his robe, his prefects' badge flittering through the air and landing at Oliver's feet. Without a second glance, he walked out of the lounge, leaving the others to puzzle out what had just happened.

* * *

Percy adjusted the head boy's badge on his robe, tilting it against the candlelight and watching the colors reflect off the mirror's surface. He felt very calm, warm and clear-headed. It was, he reflected, a welcomed change from all his previous time at Hogwarts. 

After some reflection, he decided that ridding himself of his head boy status would only add to the mess that Oliver and Dave were creating for him. As head boy, he reasoned, he'd maintain some semblance of respect and order amidst the chaos that promised to occur the next day.

He shuddered involuntarily at the thought, trying to purge it from his mind.

_Duty first. Duty only._

In his time alone, Percy had fixed up his desk to make it passable until the end of the school year, placing some charms on the desk (and truth be known, some books underneath to hold it up). Now he changed robes and slicked back his hair, admiring himself in a mirror he rarely stood in front of for more than half a minute.

"Only one more term left. No problem." He adjusted his tie again.

_It's doable. If I immerse myself in my studies, I can avoid seeing Oliver, and maybe Dave, most of the time alone. And Penelope will—_

Penelope. _What can I do about my Penny? _He watched his facial expression falter in the mirror's reflection, revealing the hurt that have overwhelmed him at the sight of his girlfriend and Adam together.

_Doing that. We hadn't even done that._

Distantly, Percy realized that he was--

_A tad._

_Bit._

_Perhaps._

"Jealous," he muttered, his ears reddening at the thought that Penny preferred to be with Adam (_like that doing that_) and not him.

He turned away from the mirror and yanked the tie over his head. It didn't matter anyways, he knew. It would be far too late to report for his duties by now.

_Why are these things so heavy? _Frustrated, he tore the robe from his body and unbuttoned his shirt. He ran his hands through his hair, itching his scalp with his fingernails. He wanted nothing more than to talk to someone right now--

No, he realized. He wanted nothing better than to speak _to Oliver _right now, to hear his friendly words and broad perspective on life, never judging Percy's actions even when, in retelling, Percy himself could see his faults.

_Bastard._

Percy was too warm. He wrestled out of the confining shirt, throwing it across the room. He kicked off his shoes to the corner where they banged noisily against the stonewall.

_A mistake. Everything. Our friendship, the last six years._

He fought off tears as he tore off his trousers, leaving them in a heap at the side of the bed.

_How many times did I help him study? How many times did he go over Quidditch plays?_

As he pulled a nightshirt over his head, Percy was drawn to one particular memory from fifth year, when Oliver first asked him his advice about a potential Quidditch play for that day's match.

He shook his head hard, dismissing the thought.

_And… And how long did he know he was gay, anyways? Did he keep that from me for years?_

Percy tried to ignore the voice in his head that reminded him that Oliver told him first before anyone else.

_Why has he never asked my advice in love? I've certainly asked for his!_

Percy thought back to the brown eyes that looked at him so closely as he sat at his desk, almost close enough for a kiss.

_Maybe he's never had reason to ask my advice. Maybe he's never been in love._

He shook his head, trying to find his slippers underneath his bed.

_Asshole._

His search unsuccessful, he crawled to Oliver's bed and searched quickly through the rubble underneath for his slippers.

_He's embarrassed. That's the only reason he wouldn't want to be with me._

He found one slipper. And paused as he repeated:

_'That's the only reason he wouldn't want to be with me.'_

_Why would it matter to me if he doesn't want to be with me like that? I'm not gay. And I wouldn't be his type anyway._

_... who would be his type?_

Percy resumed his search for the other slipper, ignoring the sinking of his stomach at that thought.

_It's an insult to our friendship. That's why I'm upset. He didn't think enough of me to tell me we are really married._

He breathed out.

_Really married._

And the person who he was married to seemed to take his presence as a great insult.

_Yes, that's why I'm upset. I thought we were better friends than that--_

Percy shook his head, as though he could rid himself of the thought by such an action. He considered himself a practical young man. So what if Oliver didn't think he was 'boyfriend material'? Why did that matter? And why, when Penelope was gone, would he run to his gay best friend, who could offer only comfort rather than advice based on personal experience?

His whole life, he realized, seemed to be jumbled. He felt as if he were presented with a math equation to which he knew he was close to solving and yet, the answer still eluded him.

Percy's hands reached out under the bed, quickly finding the other slipper. But as he pulled it out, a mess of Oliver's other things came with it, and the silver-framed picture, the copy of one he'd given Percy last year, appeared.

Not touching the picture, Percy crammed the items back under the bed and put his other slipper on. He grabbed the picture and stood quickly, looking around the room, uncertain what to do next. _Tea. Always tea. _He walked towards the nightstand and flicked his wand at the kettle, hoping it still had enough water left over from last night. He didn't feel like filling it.

Percy sat on the bed as he waited for the boil, turning the photograph over in his hands. "I remember this day like it was yesterday," he muttered. He shivered. What a mess things were now!

In the photograph, Oliver was staring at Percy's turned back. He looked dark, his brow wrinkled in concentration, but he didn't shy away from Photo Percy's rejection.

Percy adjusted his glasses, bringing the photograph closer. To his surprise, Photo Oliver wasn't just looking at Photo Percy. _No, he's staring. Why would he be staring? And why would he look so sad? Angry at the situation. Pleased if he's able to get out of things. But sad…_

He brought the photograph closer to his face, unaware that his nose was barely touching the surface as he scrutinized the image. No, that's wrong, he quickly realized.

No, instead--

_Instead Oliver's looking at me the way… _Percy stretched the photograph away from his face, still examining.

…_the way Penelope use to._

He let go of the picture and it fluttered to the ground, and he made no attempt to catch it on it's slow descend. His eyes followed the fall, the photograph see-sawing back-and-forth in the air until it slid on the floor.

_But why would Oliver--_

Percy put a cold hand to his warm forehead.

A glimmer of an idea was starting to take shape in his mind.

His stomach turned.

"Feeling all right, Perce?"

* * *

Oliver stood in the doorway, watching as Percy sat on his bed, holding his head in his hands. He was flushed but Oliver already knew that his friend wasn't ill. No, all it had taken was Percy's returned glare and he knew that he had been too late. 

_Percy already knows about tomorrow._

Oliver had left the prefect's lounge immediately in search of Dave but he couldn't find his friend or Karen, and instead decided to collect his books and make his way back to Gryffindor Tower.

Despite the late hour (for it was after ten o'clock now), Oliver remembered that the game tomorrow must take priority. By chance, he came across Fred and George in the corridor, and entered into a quick chat about the game statistics for tomorrow, promising an early practice. When they parted, Fred called back and asked if Percy was ill.

Oliver had only shrugged and continued walking, though his pace had quickened.

_And with good reason,_ he thought now, still standing in the doorway and watching Percy watch him.

The kettle began to whistle and Oliver pulled out his wand, muttering a familiar charm in its direction. But he didn't move from the doorway.

"I know." Percy startled him out of his thoughts.

Oliver nodded, trying to remain expressionless. "All right. That's good. I was about to tell you."

Percy looked away, nodding to himself. He bit his bottom lip, Oliver noticed, and he was rocking slightly. "Indeed?"

_He's going to explode._

Oliver took a deep breath, stepping forward. "I'm sorry. I meant to tell you earlier but--"

"But?" Percy still wouldn't look at him.

"And I've no right to ask you to--"

"To forgive you?" Percy chuckled bitterly, looking towards his desk.

_Was that what I was going to say?_ "Look, there's a lot going on here." 

"Apparently."

"And we have to talk about things. Will you just look at me?" _Why do I sound so angry?_

Percy didn't answer him, and his inaction infuriated Oliver further. He stormed into the room, past Percy's bed and threw his playbooks onto his desk.

"What do you want me to say, Perce? How would you have told me? I was waiting for an opportunity all day to tell you, but… I just didn't know how to start. Look at me!"

Percy didn't move as he answered: "You didn't know how to start? Typical, huh? Just ignore the situation and see if it'll correct itself?"

"That's not fair," Oliver protested, though he knew Percy was right. "It's not something that's easy to tell another person, Perce. It's not like--"

"I had to hear it from Dumbledore! From outside of his office! Right after--" Percy ran a hand roughly through his hair, stopping his words. He shook his head.

_Right after what?_

Percy rubbed the back of his wrist over his forehead, fidgeting. "Look, if you had that big a problem being with me…in this assignment, in this way, then you should have said something earlier."

"Merlin! What would I have said?" Oliver immediately realized that wasn't the answer he wanted to give. He tried again. "Look, if anyone would have a problem with another in this assignment, it'd be you."

Percy crossed his arms. "Of course I've a problem being married to you! Oliver, we're seventeen! Together our magic would just wreck havoc on everything, and we're lucky that hasn't happened so far. And you didn't tell me! How did you expect me to react?"

The room grew quiet.

After a short staring challenge, Oliver shuffled his feet and backed away a few steps. "You-- You do have a problem being married to me?"

Percy's eyes sparked. "I didn't say--"

"An excuse, Perce. The rest is just an excuse." A hot rush came over Oliver.

"An excuse? I don't need to look for an excuse to be angry, certainly not one as flimsy as that. You had no business keeping--"

"No, I didn't! But has it occurred to you that perhaps you're just a little too upset at this whole situation? Be angry at me, that's all right. But how much of this anger should be for the headmaster, or Plum?" Oliver was hardly paying attention to Percy's words. Faintly he was aware that the words he was voicing were his own fears but Percy's anger had set off his own, and there would be no turning back. "There's something more to it, isn't there Perce? Is it because you're now married to me? Eh? Does that disgust you? Does it disgust you to be with me _like this_?"

Percy startled, as though Oliver had just slapped him.

This gesture encouraged him to continue. "Merlin-forbid the world think Mr. Perfect has just a slight interest for boys. Or more specifically, for a dim Quidditch jock. Sorry that the brilliant Adam Jones was already taken, Perce. I'm sure he'd more than meet your approval."

Silence engulfed the room once more but, as soon as Oliver realized that he might have gone too far, Percy let out a long, gentle sigh, his head bowed. When he did eventually speak, his words were carefully chosen, measured and quiet. "Over the line, Oliver. Don't keep lying to me. And don't impose your fears on me. The fault here is yours alone."

Speaking as though he were talking to himself, Percy let out a chuckle, pointing his palms to the ceiling. "I thought I was different. The exception. Oliver—you were the one constant that I never thought-- never thought-- Now I've not even the hope of fools to keep me company." Shaking his head, he walked past Oliver. "I'll be downstairs on the couch. I'll see you for the _grand _announcement at breakfast."

Oliver watched as Percy, clad in his dressing gown and slippers, began to walk out the door.

He abruptly stopped.

Dave stood in the doorway.

* * *

"Dave?" Percy muttered, stopping himself from running forward. His friend looked horrible – his eyes were dark and cloudy, and his robe was rumpled and ripped open, revealing the disarray of layers of clothing underneath. _What's happened to him?_

Dave was looking back and forth at the two young men, unblinking. He walked into the room slowly and circled around them before speaking. "I could hear you fighting outside," he said simply, looking at them both as though gauging their reaction.

"Dave, you might want to sit down over--"

He held up a dismissing hand. "I'm fine. Just great, really. But I've enough of this."

Whatever _this_ was, Percy wasn't certain, and a part of him wanted to push past his friend and leave the room, away from Oliver as soon as possible. But Dave's angry, weary glare was one that he'd never encountered before.

"I've enough of this," Dave repeated. His eyes almost glowed with the tension, Percy noted, and his hands shook as they appeared to be trying to contain his frustration and anger. "Get over yourselves, both of you. Start acting like the mature Gryffindors your suppose to be. Where's all that _bravery_, eh?"

_More to it than that, Dave. _Percy winced, recalling Oliver's accusations. None had been truthful in the least and it seemed, to him, that his roommate was the one that was only making excuses.

"I'm…" Dave let out a deep breath, backing away. "I'm just so tired of it all. I don't care." He looked up at the floor. "Everything is messed up. I've struck a student and relinquished my prefect's title. Karen's… Karen doesn't want to be with me anymore, and there's nothing I can say or do to get her to change her mind."

Percy swayed as he grappled with Dave's words. _What the… Karen left Dave? Dave hit somebody? No, I must have heard wrong. _

Dave let out a sound that, if Percy hadn't known him better, would have thought a sob. "I know everyone has their own shit and all, but… I can't help thinking that if only my two best friends had been there for me, to have helped me through my own difficult times… I keep wondering why they hadn't noticed anything before? Am I that oblivious? How couldn't I have noticed anything earlier?" He was speaking quietly now, berating himself. "Am I that selfish? How long has she--"

"Dave," Oliver finally spoke, walking forward and clasping his shoulders, bringing him out of his thoughts. "What happened downstairs… Everyone's under a lot of stress."

_What in blazes happened downstairs?_

Dave licked his lips and began speaking slowly, as though trying to will himself to listen to his words. He backed away from Oliver, looking at Percy once more. "You two are mad at each other? Fine, it's deserved, both ways. But you're going to have to get yourselves out of this mess."

Percy started to open his mouth but Dave cut him off, speaking sharply. "This is what you're going to do. Pretend everything is the same as it's always been. Tomorrow you'll wake up, laugh at the situation and make a few crude jokes about sent flowers and whose turn it was to take out the trash. The school will be too interested in this latest piece of gossip to even think about harassing Percy about it."

_What the-- _Percy stepped forward. "What do you mean, harassing me? I can take care of--"

"And it just might distract the Slytherins enough to help you win the game tomorrow, Oliver. Even with those injuries you got today."

Percy couldn't stop himself from turning to face Oliver. _Injuries? What injuries? Today? But when would… Merlin, Plum's class! After lunch! He was late… Oh no…_

He gulped, then set his lips in a firm line, determined not to ask a question no matter how tempting. _He couldn't even trust me with that._

Dave was sweating, speaking as though each word were trying. "I promised to help you, Oliver, and that's the best I can do for you. I want you both to just…" He looked down at his feet, shuffling. Despite his words, he spoke quietly, kindly. "I want you to just leave me alone for a bit. And Karen. I have my own stuff to work through, and you two can figure things out for yourselves. I can't do this anymore."

Overcome with guilt and sadness at the sight of his friend and his words, Percy found himself leaning against his bed to support himself. _Dave… Dave doesn't want to be around us anymore? _

Dave put his head in his hands, and then stretched them out. "If you two haven't the decency to even do that, then _to hell_ with you both!"

He turned on his heel, leaving the room.

Percy couldn't control his curiosity, and turned quickly to Oliver. "What's he talking about, Oliver? What happened with Karen? Who did he hit?"

Slowly Oliver turned to face him. He wore a scowl, and his eyes were tired and stressed. "It doesn't matter, Perce. You heard him. Unless you'd rather we try to--"

_Oh no you don't!_

"Oliver!" Percy reached forward and grabbed his wrist, and intense brown eyes met his own. "What did he mean before? What happened to you this afternoon?"

He searched Oliver's eyes but they looked dead to him, uninterested in continuing any conversation. He turned away from Percy and, removing his robe and shoes, sat on his bed and opened a playbook.

"Oliver?"

He cleared his throat gently. "I think we should just listen to him, Perce. Do what he says for tomorrow."

"But--"

"Good-night."

_Goodnight? GOODNIGHT? _Percy backed away from him slowly, until the back of his knees hit his bed. The events of the evening came back to him, as well as scatterings of memories from years before.

His eye caught the photograph he'd dropped onto the floor, but he couldn't bend down to pick it up, instead staring at the faces. It seemed like another lifetime now, as though it'd all been a dream. _How much of that had been real? Were we ever really friends?_

Percy didn't look across the room at Oliver. He straightened his back once more, setting an impassive expression over his face and, ignoring the rumbling in his stomach over the forgotten supper, he ducked underneath the sheets, pulling them far above his head.

And he concentrated on quieting his breathing and steadying his heartbeat, trying to ignore the tears that he couldn't keep back.

* * *

_Dave. If only I'd known you were having just as hard a time…_

Oliver couldn't look at Percy after Dave left. It wasn't only his troubles now, and the guilt that Dave was now going through anguish similar to what Oliver'd unleashed onto him earlier seemed completely unfair. Unjustified.

_What right did I have to expect Dave to fix all my problems? Is this how my life is going to be? Depend on Percy for homework, depend on Dave for everything else?_

No more.

His stomach rumbled. He twisted on the bed, as though such an action would quiet the sound, but as he turned, he felt the dull ache of the bruises that Dave had quickly repaired.

He sighed. _I should have kept up the lie that nothing happened. That was time he should have been spending with Karen. I was in the class, I saw the cloud. Hell, even this morning she was acting strange._

"Not always about you, Wood," he muttered.

Oliver couldn't help looking over the other side of the room to make sure Percy was under the covers. And then he saw it--

The outline of his silver-framed picture on the floor. The picture that he found this morning, the one that caused him to remember his feelings towards Percy.

He didn't move from the bed, instead staring at the picture on the floor, watching his photo-self stare at Percy's turned back. He stared until the photograph was a blur and he couldn't keep his eyes open, and he felt himself drifting to sleep…

He was so very tired.

_Tomorrow. Tomorrow will be different. It has to be. _

_- - To Be Continued_


End file.
